Hits of the Year
by amykay
Summary: It's the year 2000. The Joe team has been disbanded for over four years, but Cobra has returned, in a place no one has expected.
1. Bozo Convention

This is a story that Nicole and I started over four years ago. Unfortunately, it fell by the wayside, and remained un-updated until now. We're back and ready to re-release our epic. This story takes place after the Sunbow cartoon series. We don't own any of the Joes, nor are we making a profit off of this piece.

A special thanks goes out to Kurt (wolfman769) for beta reading this chapter. He takes over one of the story arcs in a later chapter.

Chapter One

Bozo Convention 2000

Prologue

December 31, 1999

President-Elect Olexander Yelchichev was in his office looking down at the streets below. The crowds were starting to form for Kiev's Millennium Celebration to be held later on that night. There was a knock at the door. "Enter," he called out.

His secretary walked into the room. "Sorry to disturb you, sir, but those two men are back and they are demanding to see you."

Olexander sighed. "Let them in." Why don't they understand that he has everything under control? Ever since he made the deal with them two years ago, they have constantly questioned his actions. Ukraine was his country, why didn't they understand that. He knew what the people wanted.

The two hooded figures entered the room. The loud and obnoxious one spoke first, as he usually did. He never bothered to show respect for the Ukrainian political leader. He just opened his mouth and cut loose. "President Yelchichev, we are _very_ disturbed about the recent news reports from Moscow!"

"Relax, Mister Commander," Yelchichev replied, trying to keep his tone even and measured. "It means nothing to us." The Ukrainian head of state silently wished that he didn't have to spend most of his time calming "Mister Commander" down.

"This means _nothing_ to us?" Cobra Commander yelled. He slammed a second copy of _Pravda_ on the president's desk, pounding his black-gloved fist on it repeatedly in frustration. "Russia also has a new President! You did not tell us that Mister Yeltsin would be resigning with the coming New Year!"

"I did not know. I suppose Boris was more ill than we thought."

"That's exactly what we were counting on. We needed Russia to have a weak leader!"

"Vladimir Putin is of no concern to us. He will not interfere." Yelchichev wasn't so sure of this fact, but he did not need to make the Commander more hysterical. It was an unforeseen snag in their plans, but they would work their way around it.

The man was about to launch into another tirade when his partner began speaking. "Cobra Commander, Comrade Yelchichev is correct. This means nothing."

"What I'm concerned with Destro, is what else he doesn't know. We've spent too long of a time on this to have it fail." Cobra Commander replied.

Olexander was getting angry. _How dare he question me_. "The hard part is over. There is nothing left to stop us. When I am sworn in on January twenty-first, we would have reached our goals. That is, provided I get my money before then."

"You will have your money. That is of no concern for you," Cobra Commander responded.

"Then you will have your country," Olexander said.

January 21,2000

General Hawk was sitting in his office. He yawned as he shuffled through some papers. He then looked at his watch. It wasn't even noon yet. Taking a sip of his coffee, he decided to try the new Chinese place for lunch. It could turn out to be the highlight of his day.

"Same shit, different day," he said to the wall and once again asked himself what the hell he was still doing in the Army. He reasoned with himself that a civilian desk job wasn't going to be any more exciting. At least now there was the very slim chance that a war would break out. That would give him something to do.

The Joe team disbanded nearly five years ago. He had been busy the first few months making sure his soldiers got the jobs they wanted. He felt it was the least he could do for them. They were the most professional group he had ever dealt with. They gave their all for the team, and then all of a sudden they were declared unnecessary. The brass wanted to give them all honorable discharges, so they could start a "normal" life. He reasoned with them that what they do next should be their choice. Most of them had been with the military so long; they wouldn't know how to live a "normal" life. Given the choice, a lot did leave the service. He tried to keep up with what they were doing, but he lost track of many of them. Since he was their CO, he never made strong friendships with any of them. It was better for him to keep personal issues out of it.

The ones that stayed in the Army were easier to keep track of. Every so often he would see a familiar name on a file that passed through his inbox, and he would read up on that individual. He was still proud of his men and women; they were continuing their illustrious careers through the regular Army.

A knock on the door jarred him from his thoughts. "Enter," he called out. In walked one of the men he was just thinking about. Mainframe had stayed with the general since the team's disbanding. He wasn't exactly his aid, but he kept the general up to date on any issue worldwide that might need attention. Today, he was visibly excited. Something big must have just happened.

"General, you are not going to believe this. You have to watch this tape." Mainframe said and placed a VCR tape in the TV/VCR that Hawk had in his office. The TV came to life showing a gathering of people on a podium. A man was speaking in Russian, and seemed to be introducing another individual. When his name was announced a large cheer was heard.

"What is this?" General Hawk asked.

"It's the swearing in ceremony of the new Ukrainian president, Olexander Yelchichev. When he starts talking we had a translator dub his words in English," Mainframe explained.

"Why is this so…" General Hawk began to ask but stopped as his eyes began to scan the crowd. He stopped on a familiar face. "Is that Destro?" he asked incredulously.

"Yep," Mainframe said.

The tape now had Hawk's full attention. He listened as the President was sworn in. After the official ceremony he began to make his first speech as President. Most of it was typical new-President speak - promising a better economy for the people, but then he made a surprising announcement.

"You are all wondering how I could accomplish all this when our past president was unable to," President Yelchichev said, "Well I will tell you how. I have decided to ally our country with a large military organization. They will provide us the financial resources we so desperately need. They will supplement our armies, to protect us from our enemies. We will work together to make the Ukraine the country she is destined to become. That military organization is Cobra!"

Hawk jumped out of his chair. "He did what?" He yelled. He could not believe his ears. He watched as the television panned to show Destro and Cobra Commander. They were both sitting there smugly, looking out unto the people of the country they now controlled.

Hawk turned to Mainframe, "How did this happen?"

"Sir, you just asked the question of the hour. You've got every division on this government pointing fingers at each other. Right now they are all taking a hard look at the CIA. This all happened about an hour ago, and the phones have been lit up ever since."

Hawk was about to ask why it took an hour for him to be notified about this when his phone rang. He answered and it was one of his superior officers. "General Abernathy, I trust you are now aware of the situation in Eastern Europe?"

"Yes, sir. I just reviewed the tape. You have my cooperation in this matter. I can fly to DC on the next plane to give whatever assistance is needed," Hawk said.

"Whoa, Just a minute there. We need to inform the President, and he'll make a decision on how to handle this. We'll probably need you for some background information on Cobra, but that won't be for a few more days."

"But, sir. From past experience, I think it would be prudent to act on this right away. We need to reactivate the GI Joe team as soon as possible. If you give Cobra too much time…"

"General, I understand your enthusiasm. However, you're jumping the gun. There are no plans now to reactivate the GI Joe team, nor do I think there will be any in the future. Just sit tight, we'll let you know when you are needed." He then hung up the phone.

Hawk slammed the phone down. Things haven't changed at all in five years. There were still incompetent morons running the show. How could they not reactivate the team? Cobra was now a viable threat, and with a whole country's resources at their disposal, they were now even stronger than they were before. And now the US was just going to sit on their hands and watch. "Absolutely unbelievable!" he yelled out.

"I take it the phone call didn't go well?" Mainframe asked.

Hawk had forgotten Mainframe was still in the room. He looked at him and decided he wasn't going to just sit tight. "Mainframe, I want you to find each and every member of the Joe team. Don't contact them yet; just get me the information I need so I can find them in a hurry. No matter what the bozos above may think, I believe we're back in business."

February 19, 2000

"MAINFRAME!" Hawk hollered.

"Sir, you know, I do have a real name." Mainframe knew he was going to feel the brunt of Hawk's wrath after that comment, but he really didn't care. The General had been an absolute bear the last few weeks, and he was now thoroughly pissed off with him. The two had been working night and day ever since the beginning of the Ukrainian crisis. Hawk had been busy planning up rosters and strategies, while Mainframe had been hunting down the previous members of the Joe team. Mainframe thought it was going to get better when he and Hawk had been flown out to DC a week ago, but it hadn't. Hawk was still being ignored to varying degrees by the government; he was just getting ignored in new surroundings.

"We've spent twenty-nine days trying to get our voices heard by the deaf, dumb and blind officials of this government so that we could hopefully prevent the total destruction of this planet and you're worried about what name I call you?" Hawk asked in total disbelief.

"It's just that I'm on the same side as you. You don't have to be constantly screaming at me," Mainframe answered.

Hawk just glared at him and then mumbled an apology. "I was just wondering why I have no information on Lifeline."

Mainframe rolled his eyes. He'd been over this with him before. "He's a missionary in South America now. The only way we can get in contact with him is to wait until he makes his twice a year journey into the city for supplies. According to the Red Cross, that won't be until April."

Hawk looked at him again in disbelief, then he grumbled, "Fine. We don't need that damn pacifist anyway." He looked at his watch and swore again. "I've got to go. Since I actually got a meeting with those airheads, I don't want to be late." He then smoothed out his uniform, grabbed the large stack of files, and ran out of the room.

"Good luck, sir," Mainframe called out after him.

Hawk entered the White House Situation Room and for a moment wished that he was trying to only convince the Jugglers to reinstate GI Joe as opposed to convincing the nerve center of American security. General Paul Baker, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of  
Staff, walked over to Hawk. "Good to see you again, Clay. I wish it was under better circumstances though."

"You and me both, Sir."

"Sit next to me. The President should be here in a few minutes"

Hawk nodded and followed Baker to the far end of the table. As he was sitting down Chief of Staff Harold Cook walked into the room. "Okay, I know we've been over this before, but the President is still wondering how the hell we missed this. For once I'd like to be able to give him an explanation that doesn't involve charts and diagrams."

Secretary of Defense Richard Williams was the first to speak. "It appears that our initial analysis that both the NSA and CIA dropped the ball on this one is correct. Somehow they managed to not pick up on the relationship between Cobra and Yelchichev let alone the sheer existence of Cobra. The only good thing going for us is that everyone else seemed to miss this as well. Of course, though, all eyes of the world are on us."

"Hold on a second, Dick. Don't pin this one on the NSA." National Security Advisor Myron Henderson pointed towards CIA Director Anderson Bellows. "His boys were actually walking the streets of Kiev. Do not lump me in with his growing list of failures."

Before Bellows could defend his agency, Albert Gorman, Head of the Eastern Europe Division spoke. "How were we supposed to know Cobra was still around? The military swore up and down on a giant stack of bibles that Cobra was destroyed. My people didn't see it because they weren't looking for it."

Henderson stared at Bellows and Gorman for a few seconds. "It's your job to figure these things out. That's why the President signs those findings you hand us every week and why Congress gives you money. And look at Cobra Commander and Destro for god's sake. One wears a hood and the other wears a big steel mask. Are you telling me your agents are so incompetent they didn't see either eyesore in public?"

Before the petty bickering could continue the President entered the room. Everyone stood and waited for him to sit down before retaking their seats. "Please tell me that you've finally come up with a plan that doesn't make us look either like Pollyanna or Alexander."

Baker addressed the group. "I believe we may have that solution, sir. As has been previously discussed we can't simply go in there with a full military assault. Both NATO and the UN are afraid to send troops due in part to previous failures in similar missions and in part to Cobra's reputation. After some deliberation on our part we believe General Abernathy has what we need."

Hawk stood up. He passed out the handouts he and Mainframe had made up detailing his strategy. "Thank you, General Baker. Cobra may be playing on the level right now, but it is only a matter of time before they revert to their old ways. I've developed a two-prong  
strategy designed to hasten that transformation. Once that has occurred we should have no problem getting the international support we need to proceed with an invasion."

"The first is the more public prong - using military advisors. Ukraine's neighbors are a little worried and some comparisons between Cobra and Nazi Germany should help increase that tension. It will be announced that we're reforming the Joe team to serve as military advisors only. Four or five Joes will be sent to those nations to devise defense strategies and work on securing cooperation for the inevitable assault against Cobra. Cobra will sweat slightly with Joe team around, but if they believe they're only acting as  
advisors they might get sloppy."

"The second part is the more covert of the two. I've come up with a four-man team to go in and find out the truth and begin a resistance movement. One of them will actually try to work their way into the government while the others try to stir up some discontent. We know that not every Ukranian is happy with this. While not widespread there have been protests in most of the major cities. If we can organize an insurrection Cobra may show their hand by cracking down on the movement." When he finished talking Hawk paused, waiting for the barrage of questions.

"These people you have listed, do you even know where they are?" asked the President.

"Yes, sir. I've tracked down about ninety-five percent of the former team members, and I can contact everyone that is listed as available."

"But you haven't actually talked to them so you don't know if they would be willing to come back?"

Before Hawk could answer Gorman raised his hand. "Let me get this straight. This whole operation will hinge on the success of your four-man covert ops team. And for this you have picked a Broadway actress, a computer geek, your basic Navy screw-up and a man that has great credentials but is apparently not on your available list." Gorman was trying his best to shoot this plan down. "Isn't this something the CIA should  
be doing, not the military?"

Hawk was getting annoyed. "With all due respect, sir, if you had done your job right in the first place I wouldn't be here now. Lady Jaye is the finest undercover agent I have ever seen. I believe her file shows that your people tried to recruit her. She's also considered one of the top intelligence people in the world. Dial-Tone is a world class radio operator and electronics engineer. Communications is going to be key in this mission and I want the best man for the job. Shipwreck has the naval background that will allow him to blend in the Crimea, a section we need if we're going to get some kind of resistance movement going. And Flint as you've said has the credentials, and last I knew he was working for your agency. To be perfectly honest the last known sighting of Flint was in your neck of the woods."

Bellows looked through the plan. It definitely seemed doable and would draw attention away from the failure of Gorman and his people. It would also leave him free to plan and pursue other avenues of investigation with relative secrecy. "It looks like it could work, General Abernathy. You have my assurance that we'll locate Flint and put him at your disposal. You also have my word that Albert here will help you to his fullest extent."

Gorman had been shifting in his seat since Hawk outlined the plan and began to squirm to the point of distraction when Bellows offered his services. "But sir."

"Not now, Gorman."

Gorman just shifted some more in his seat as the President looked over Hawk's proposal one last time. "I agree with you, Andy, I think this could work. As of this moment, General Abernathy, GI Joe is reactivated. Contact who you need to and get this plan of yours in motion. Good day, gentleman."

With that the President stood up, signifying the end of the meeting. Hawk had to restrain himself. He went over to Bellows and Gorman. "I should be able to contact who I need today and have the majority of them report for duty by tomorrow. I can probably have the covert team ready to go by either tomorrow evening or early the next morning."

Bellows smiled and shook Hawk's hand. "That's fine, general. I like a man who takes decisive action and gets things done. Let us know if you need help with  
anything."

"Thank you, sir. Actually, I'll probably need help with covers for the team to get them into the country, and then at least one with some government position."

"I think we can arrange that. I'll send over some credible covers to allow all four to get into the country, including airline arrangements, and have Gorman work out a cover Lady Jaye." Bellows walked out of the room with Gorman right behind him. They walked in silence till they got to their respective cars.

"Gorman, if you ever question the authority of myself or any other cabinet member in public again, your ass will hit the pavement so fast you won't know what hit you. You should be thanking me for not sacking you the moment this latest nightmare started. I suggest you see this is as a shot at redemption and be as helpful as possible."

Before Gorman had a chance to respond Bellows got into his car and left the White House. He headed for his office in the Old Executive Building. Once in his office Bellows picked up the phone and dialed a page number. He slipped in the code number, hung up the phone, and waited for Ned to arrive.


	2. Religari

Chapter Two

Religari

February 19, 2000

Washington, DC

Bellows sat back and waited for Ned to finish looking over the files regarding this latest agency mishap. He felt marginally bad about having to send her back to the former Soviet Union since she had just gotten back from Russia and assessing the agency's inability to predict Yeltsin's resignation. Bellows knew she was done when she threw the papers she was reading on the desk in disgust. "Your opinion?"

"My opinion is that I should just move over there permanently. I'm spending more time there than I am at home, Panda. I don't know why I bother to unpack anymore. Either that or make me the Eastern Europe head since it clear that Gorman has no idea what he's doing."

He hated it when she called him Panda and she knew it. She grinned as he tried to keep himself from asking her to stop calling him that. It was bad enough when he was a child and the kids teased him with the term, a reference to the Woody Woodpecker character. He was Director of the CIA now and there was just something wrong with being nicknamed after a child's cartoon show. It was testament to the degree of respect that he had for her that he let her get away with it. "Now that we've gotten your personal opinion out of the way can I hear your professional one?"

She shifted in her seat and took a sip of coffee. "I don't like it. I have trouble believing that they could miss both Yeltsin and this whole Ukrainian debacle. Cobra's good, but subtlety was never a term associated with them. I can't believe that they were planning this for two years and no one noticed. We all know how much the Commander likes to pontificate. He had to have talked to someone. Something clearly smells rotten in Denmark and it's not the trash."

"What about this plan of the Joes?"

"I like it. If done right it will definitely provoke Cobra into screwing up and giving us a reason to take them out. Flint's got the experience on both sides to be a competent liaison and even after a five year absence I'm inclined to believe Jaye is the best at what she does. Speaking of Flint, I'm assuming you know where he is."

"Gorman says he'll have Flint available for the Joes."

"At this point I trust anything coming out of his mouth about as much as I trust Bubba when he says he doesn't know the definition of mud. On the safe side have Hawk not tell the others about Flint. It'll be a bitch to explain if Gorman doesn't produce him." Bellows nodded and made a note to call Hawk. "I'm not comfortable with Gorman running the show on our end though. He's already screwed up twice and I don't want to think about the possibility of a third strike."

"I agree, but there's not enough to fully commit to having him removed. Right now he could blame it on the people under him and no one could dispute that. The evidence against him is circumstantial at best and with his father's ties to Congress I want an ironclad case against him. That's where you come in."

"I figured as much. The usual?"

"Yes, I've already talked to our British friends and they're willing to help out again. Their people will answer to you in this matter, mainly because that way they can blame us if things get out of hand. You're also authorized to contact Jaye and become the middleman between her and the agency. You've got free reign over there."

"I can deal with that. I'll head out this afternoon." She stood up and pushed her chair in. "If you could send word that I want Sergei to get me at the airport and have the Brits set up a new safe house within easy access of the borders down south. Tell them to keep it as quiet as possible. Also get my list of preferred safe house goodies and make sure they stock the place right." Ned drained the last of her coffee and walked out of Bellows' office.

February 21, 2000

Kiev, Presidential Building

Cobra Commander was sitting in his new office. He couldn't help but feel smug. It wasn't everyone that had a President of a country in his back pocket. Looking at a map of the world, he had an internal debate over which city he would knock out first if he got the chance to launch a nuclear missile. He finally decided on France. The French were just too damn uppity for his liking. To emphasize his choice he threw a dart at the country. He missed and hit England instead. "Ahh, Close enough."

There was a knock on the door, and the very shapely, very young, very blond 'personal assistant' walked in. "Sir, there are two men here to see you."

"Who are they? I'm very busy you know." _I'd like to get even busier with you later._

"Thomas and Zavier, or something like that." She shook her head in exasperation, "I'm not really sure, but they're twins."

Cobra Commander groaned. It's the no-good Crimson Twins, looking to rain on my parade. He was going to tell the secretary to throw them out, but he was curious to see what they would offer him. "Show them in."

The twins walked in, in their standard three-piece suits. Both were carrying briefcases and large smiles on their faces. "Good Morning…" Tomax began

"Cobra Commander…" Xamot continued

" It's such a pleasure seeing you again." They ended together.

"Oh for Christ's sake, aren't you two sick of this little routine? I swear, you do that one more time in my presence, and I'll have your ugly heads hanging on my wall."

The two nodded and while keeping in mind Cobra Commander's threat, they began to explain the reason for their visit.

"Cobra Commander, we couldn't help but notice your successful and rather peaceful take-over of this country. We feel that it would be in both of our best interests, if we joined forces on this one," Tomax explained.

Cobra Commander snorted. "Both of our interests? Destro and I did all the work, and now you're trying to get back on board to reap all the benefits. How can this be beneficial to me? We're doing quite fine on our own."

"Right now you are. However you've had no opposition. The Ukrainians are too much in shock to rebel, the United States are equally surprised, and have been unable to launch any kind of attack against you. You're going to have dissent in the country, and an attack from your enemies. You're going to need help," Xamot answered.

"I don't need your help," Cobra Commander replied.

"With us, you get the legions of Crimson Guardsmen back in your control. Not to mention the full financial backing of Extensive Enterprises, and, from past experience, we know you could use all the money you can get," Tomax explained.

Cobra Commander went silent and pretended to ponder the offer. He desperately needed the Twins' help, but he wasn't going to let them know that. "I will need someone to keep an eye on Yelchichev. Destro says he's harmless, a pawn for Cobra, but I still don't trust him. I don't trust Destro either, for that matter. Lately, Yelchichev has been yapping about his safety, he's afraid of being assassinated. I could assign you two as his bodyguards, and you could keep an eye on him for me."

The twins looked at each other and Xamot spoke, "Bodyguards? After all our years of faithful service to you, we're now reduced to hired thugs?"

"FAITHFUL?" Cobra Commander screamed. "I don't remember any of you being faithful at my trial. You were more than willing to bring up all of my failures to Golobulus. You two are just lucky that I don't hold a grudge."

The twins knew they shouldn't push their luck. "Bodyguard duty would be fine." They said in unison.

Cobra Commander was really losing his patience. "Fine. Get out of my office and find that idiot Ukrainian. Introduce yourselves, and then make yourselves useful." As they began to walk out of his office, he called to them once more, "And about those funds, I will need some extra cash, for my personal account. I'll let you know the amount."

The twins smiled, "As you wish, Commander."

New Jersey Turnpike

Alison Hart-Burnett was in her car. _I'm completely insane._ Last night she had given her farewell performance in the Merry Wives of Windsor, and now she was headed towards the G.I. Joe Headquarters, to rejoin a team she thought she was done with.

She was trying to tell herself that it was Hawk's desperate sounding voice that made her quit acting again and return, but she knew that it was her own curiosity and sense of adventure that was the cause of this. The simple truth is she wanted to know what the problem was and what she could do about it.

Her director, James, had been very good about it. She had gotten the phone call only yesterday, and she knew she couldn't stay until the end of the play's run. James knew a little bit about her past life with the Joe team, so he didn't hesitate when she told him it was important and she needed to leave immediately. She felt she owed him at least one more performance, so she delayed leaving until this morning. Before she left, he had told her that she could always come back if this little adventure of hers didn't work out.

This made her wonder just how long this was going to last. Were they restarting the Joe team for good, or was this for one mission? She wished she paid more attention to the news recently, so maybe she could have an idea of what was going on. When the team was first disbanded, she became a news junkie. She had decided not to pursue a regular military life, but she knew she would return to the Joes, if they started up again. She would watch news report after news report to see if there were any world issues that might warrant a reactivation of the Joe team. As the months went by, her hope faded, and she gave up on current events.

She knew that going back to Headquarters would be hard for her, because everything would remind her of Flint and all that they had together. She wondered if he was returning to base also, or if he was too involved in his new life. She couldn't believe how much it still hurt to think of him, even after all this time. She knew that she still loved him and probably always would.

She came to the exit she needed to take and got off the Turnpike. As she got closer, her excitement began to grow. She pulled up to the security gate, and was disappointed to see it was no one she recognized. She flashed her old I.D. and said "Hart-Burnett, Alison code-name Lady Jaye reporting for duty." She then saluted him.

He returned the salute and said "Proceed in, Mrs. Hart-Burnett." The Mrs. made her sad again. With her hyphenated name, it happened often, but she couldn't help and think that she should have been a Mrs. but with a Faireborn after it. She didn't have long to wallow in self-pity before she recognized a friendly face.

"Shipwreck! I can't believe I'm saying this, but it is so good to see you," She called out her open window. She parked the car and got out. He ran up to her and hugged her.

"Jaye, you look great. You honestly haven't changed a bit. You're still as beautiful as you were 5 years ago."

"And you're still as good a liar as you were back then," She said to him, but appreciated the compliment.

"Jaye – that's a name I haven't used in years. Looks like I need to get used to hearing it again."

"For some reason Shipwreck stayed with me. Maybe the guys in the Navy were trying to tell me something. So where's Flint? Is he at home with the kids?" Shipwreck asked.

Lady Jaye realized this was going to be harder than she thought. She had kept up with only a couple of her old friends, so most of the Joes didn't know what happened. She wondered how many times she was going to have to repeat her story. Shipwreck's comment did answer the question that'd been nagging her all morning – Flint was in fact not here. She was trying to decide if she was disappointed or relieved. "To be honest, I don't know. I haven't talked to him in nearly three years."

Shipwreck was actually shocked. He thought for sure that they would be living the American dream. "What happened? You guys were supposed to get married."

"Things just didn't work out." She wanted to change the subject "So how are you? Do you have a wife and kids at home now?"

Shipwreck laughed. "Oh God, no! I am still the swinging bachelor. I haven't found anyone to tie me down yet."

Lady Jaye also laughed. It was good to see some things hadn't changed. "So, who else is here?" She asked as they began to walk inside.

"Just a few people. I've seen Snake-Eyes and Stalker. Oh, and Duke and Scarlett are showing off pictures of their little one."

"I can't wait to meet her. I can't believe that Anna is almost three years old, and I haven't seen her in person. Scarlett is very good about sending photos, though," Lady Jaye said.

"I know. I still have her birth announcement hanging on my refrigerator," Shipwreck replied.

They had now entered the room where the others were. Scarlett saw Lady Jaye and she went running over to her. The two hugged. "Lady Jaye you look great! I love how you grew your hair out," Scarlett said when they let go of each other.

"And you, you still look fantastic. Having a baby didn't change you at all," Lady Jaye said sincerely.

"I'm surprised my hair hasn't turned gray. There are some days when having a toddler would add years to your life. Have I sent you her latest professional?" Scarlett asked as she handed Jaye the photo she was holding.

"No, I haven't seen this. She's really beautiful, Scarlett," Lady Jaye said.

"That's because she's my daughter," Duke said as he walked over to them.

"Actually, I was going to say she's all Scarlett, which is a good thing for her," Lady Jaye replied with a smirk.

"Geez, Jaye you're been here for about 45 seconds and already you're a pain in my ass," Duke said and then laughed. "Seriously, though it's good to see you."

"It's good to see you, too," Lady Jaye said.

Hawk entered the room and the little reunion was over. They all sat down in their seats waiting to see what the new crisis was. Scarlett leaned over to Jaye and whispered to her, "When this is over, how about we go get some lunch? Do a little girl talk?"

Lady Jaye nodded and Hawk began. For the next hour she became engrossed in the Ukrainian crisis.

Joe's Diner

Lady Jaye and Scarlett grabbed a table in the back at Joe's Diner. It was in the quietest section. "So who's watching Anna?" Lady Jaye asked.

"Duke's mom and step-dad. We had an idea what this was about, so we knew we'd probably be gone a while. She loves it with her grandparents. I'm sure she's spoiled rotten by now."

"It'll be good for her." Lady Jaye said and Scarlett rolled her eyes. "Do you believe I had no idea about this whole situation? That tells you how removed from the real world I've been."

"I can tell you threw yourself totally in your work, I've seen some of the reviews of your other plays. A lot of the critics were pretty impressed with your ability. Was it hard quitting?"

"No, not all. I just knew I had to do it. I started having second thoughts on the way down here." They both were silent for a moment as they read the menu. "I can't believe this is the exact same menu from 5 years ago."

"The more things change…" Scarlett began and noticed the sadness come over Jaye's face. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Lady Jaye knew exactly what she was referring to. "Not much to say." She did really want to talk it out, but she was afraid of opening up a dam. The waitress came by and took their order. When she left Scarlett said, "I'm sorry. I don't mean to pry. But what happened? One minute you guys were going strong with wedding plans, and the next the whole thing was called off."

Lady Jaye decided to tell the whole story. She hoped it would help her feel better. She hadn't been able to tell Scarlett in the past, because she had been kind of embarrassed about it. Plus, Scarlett and Duke were so blissfully happy, that she didn't want their pity. "It really wasn't sudden. It was a relationship falling apart, one day at a time. It started with the Joe team disbanding. I think that the main problem was neither one of us could handle it. It was so sudden, and we didn't know what to do with ourselves. Plus it didn't help that I didn't want to go military and he did. You know Flint can't sit around bored. He needs constant excitement.

"He stayed in the Army, and I was the bum. At first it was nice, I caught on all the stuff I missed those years I was a Joe, but after a couple of weeks it got old fast. And Flint was no help. He was cranky all the time, because the Army life was so different. There were no bad guys to fight anymore on a daily basis, and he got tired real quick of the drills and simulations.

"After a couple of months I started working with the local playhouse, and began working in earnest on the wedding plans. I became happy with what I was doing, but Flint was still miserable. It got to a point that I dreaded going home. After our production of a Mid-Summer's Night Dream, I got an audition at the Pearl Theater for a role in 'A Doll's House'. I got the part and told Flint I wanted to move to New York. He wasn't happy about it, and we fought a little bit over it, but he finally realized that it was something I needed to do. I had a great time in New York and was asked to come back for their next play. I really wanted to do it, but it meant postponing our wedding date. Flint went ballistic. We had a huge fight over it. It was so bad, that I flew back to talk to him face to face. On that trip back, I found out that the CIA approached him. They wanted him to do some undercover work for him. He had thought that we could do it together, but I told him I didn't want to do that kind of work anymore. I really liked the acting job, and I didn't want to quit. I told him though to take the job. It was what he really wanted, and I knew he'd be happier. So I went back to New York and he went to Langley.

"We didn't see each other much during that time, there was a couple of days at Christmas, and then a weekend a few weeks later. In the Spring I saw that I was coming up to a break in my schedule and I wanted to have the wedding then. He told me it wasn't a good time for him, because he was still training. I waited a few more weeks, and tried a new date. And another, and another. I should have known by then the relationship was over, but I kept holding on to the tiniest shred of hope. Finally, he came out to see me one weekend and we had a long talk. It started out civil, but when he admitted that he couldn't ever guarantee a date when he'd be free to get married, I lost it. I knew then that it was over for us. It turned really ugly with both of us accusing the other of ruining the relationship. He said my decision to come to NY was the cause of it, and he was probably right. Thinking back now, though, I realize it was the end of G.I. Joe that was the end of us. The whole time we were dating I would wonder if our relationship was strong enough to survive in the real world. I was always afraid that it was just one of convenience. We were teammates, and latched on to each other because we were there together and it was easier then going outside of the base. I really didn't think so, I thought our feelings were deeper than that, and it kind of depresses me to find out I was right all along."

Lady Jaye had a long drink of her soda. Scarlett also paused as she considered all that Lady Jaye had said. "I saw you two together, I know you had something special."

"Obviously, it wasn't special enough."

"Have you heard from him since then?"

"I saw him once about a year later, but then he just disappeared off the face of the earth. Duke probably knows better where he is, than I do."

"I don't think Duke knows. If he does, he hasn't told me." Scarlett admitted. "Are you disappointed he isn't here?"

"I don't know. Part of me wants to see him again, but the other part doesn't. Things got real ugly at the end and I wouldn't want to start all the fighting again."

Their food came, and both began eating. After a couple of bites Scarlett asked, "Has their been anybody else?"

Lady Jaye shook her head. "No, at least not seriously. I dated a few guys, but no one that I fell in love with. I don't think I want another serious relationship, at least not now."

"Is it because you want Flint back?"

Lady Jaye paused a moment as she considered the question. "You know, I think it is. I can't help comparing the guys I dated with him. I would love to go back to how we were five years ago. However, to have it work now would take a lot of effort. If it even could work. I think right now we just want two different things out of life." Lady Jaye sighed, "Anyway, this is a moot point. He's not coming back, and for all I know he could have moved on."

Lady Jaye finished up her meal and then looked at her watch. "Sorry, to cut this short, but we should really get back to base. Hawk was nice enough to give us time off for lunch, but our flight is tonight, and I really need to meet with Shipwreck and Dial-Tone and try to figure out how to attack this. When are you heading out?"

"We're leaving tonight too. Duke wants to meet with Putin first thing tomorrow. We'll be heading out with Snakes and Stalker." Scarlett answered.

"Good luck with that, we're going to need all the help we could get. Speaking of which, be prepared to pull my ass out of trouble. I don't know if I'm totally crazy about going into the lion's den, basically alone."

"I'm sure you won't be alone. Somebody over there will help you out." Scarlett answered.

"I hope you're right." She picked up the check. "I'll treat. I figure it's the least I could do since you were forced to listen to my pathetic story."

"I just hope talking about it helped you some, I'm sorry it didn't turn out better for the two of you." Scarlett said as she hugged Lady Jaye.

"I'm sorry too." Lady Jaye said.

Kiev

Dashiell Faireborn, who was once known as Flint, was standing outside a small office door in a non-descript building, waiting to speak to his boss. He had a pretty good idea of why he had been called here, but he was anxious to find out what exactly his role would be. The sudden reappearance of Cobra brought back all his old memories of his life with the Joe team, and he wanted to go back to the front lines and start kicking some Cobra ass.

The door opened and the woman waved him inside. She had a file in her hand and the phone cradled against her ear. "Yes, Believe me I know how vital this is." She said to the phone. She pointed to the other chair in the room.

Flint smiled at her. Mary Olsen was one of the top CIA agents. She and her husband had made an excellent team together, working on many of the top-secret missions in Russia. She had been a natural choice to head the local operations here, and Flint was glad to be working for her.

As she listened into the phone she gathered together three files. She then said, "Yes. I am about to do the briefing. Dash is in my office as we speak." The person on the other end finally got the hint and she was able to hang up the phone. "Sorry, about that. That was Charlie, going ape-shit as usual. He wanted to make sure I knew that Al was coming over."

"Gorman is flying in?" Flint asked.

"Of course. With this big of a screw-up, it's the least he could do to save his job," she said. "Of course, he's too busy pointing fingers, that I don't think he's has that much free time."

Mary wasn't usually this cynical. The director must have come down hard on her, since she was the senior Ukrainian contact. The fact that she was focused on a complete different country due to orders from above at the time meant little to the blame assessors. "Anyway, Charlie wanted to make sure you were fully briefed before Al gets here. You have a five o'clock appointment with him this afternoon."

Flint made a mental note to make sure he got dinner before the meeting. Meetings with Albert Gorman usually ran very long.

Mary handed him the files. "As you know, this is a pretty big international crisis. The government wants to utilize every resource we have, past and present, to handle this. You were chosen, Dash, because of your previous involvement with the G.I. Joe team. Certain members of the G.I. Joe team have been reinstated for this mission. Three of their members are flying out here to work with us, to hopefully, take care of this situation from within."

That came as kind of a shock to Flint. He had long ago given up hope that the Joe team would be reformed.

"In your hands are the files of the members you would be working with. Albert will be giving you the specifics on each person's assignment. You will be leading that group and reporting back to us. They already know that they should be answering to the CIA. I didn't think you'd actually need the files information, since I'm sure you know all three very well."

Flint opened the first file and had to restrain himself from showing any emotion. He really shouldn't have been surprised to see her, since she was the best at undercover work. However, it was still tough seeing Lady Jaye's photo after all these years. He began to wonder about Mary's last comment. Did she know about his and Lady Jaye's past relationship? He didn't want to focus too hard on Jaye's file, besides there wasn't anything in there that he didn't already know. Instead he looked to see who else would be joining him. Shipwreck, now that one was a surprise. He thought for sure Shipwreck would have given up the military life by now. The final name was Dial-Tone. He was pleased with that choice. Dial-Tone was a great radio man, and would be very useful in sending out coded transmissions. Plus it would be good to see him again. Not a lot of the Joes got along well with Dial-Tone, they all thought he was kind of strange. However, after a few missions with him, Flint became good friends with him. You could add him to the long list of names that Flint once considered a close friend, but whom he fell completely out of touch with. He put down the files. "You're right that I didn't need these. There's little in here I didn't already know."

She smiled. "That's what I thought, but I had to follow procedure. So are these good choices?"

"Yes. All three are very good at what they do. We couldn't ask for a better, or more professional team."

"Good. That's all I have for you now. You're free until five o'clock." Mary dismissed him. To prove her point, she picked up the phone again and began dialing a number.

Flint left the room. Once out in the hallway he made his way to what had become his temporary office. He sat at his desk and reopened Lady Jaye's file. This time he did read through the report. It took him thirty minutes to go through all the pages. He didn't realize just how many missions they had been on together. Some of them really stood out in his mind, like the time they went undercover on that millionaire's yacht to recover a special perfume. Or the time Cobra had set up that Funhouse. Both of those missions were special, not for what happened on the mission, but for what happened afterwards. He could still remember the walk on that beach…

He mentally slapped himself. This was getting him nowhere. That part of his life is over with. She probably was married, most likely to one of her fellow actors. They probably had a lovely apartment in the city…

Flint stood up and tried to clear his head. Unbelievable. He hadn't thought about her in nearly three years, and now he couldn't get her out of his head. That wasn't true either. He had thought about her in the past. A lot, actually. He had gone to see her a couple of times in her plays. He watched her from the audience, but he never had the nerve to go and talk to her afterwards. And then that one time that he did…

He mentally slapped himself again. He needed to focus on Cobra now. He had a meeting with the Head of the Eastern Europe division in a few hours, and they needed to discuss how the hell they were going to get Cobra out of the Ukraine. This was no time to dwell on lost love. It was time to get down to business.

Kiev, Presidential Building

Destro watched the man leave his office. He then turned to the Baroness and smiled. "We might actually win this one, my dear."

"Then we could for once and for all, get rid of that idiot Cobra Commander." She purred back. She walked over to Destro and grabbed the information he was holding. "So this is the Joes big plan. Four undercover agents, and a decoy group. Hawk must be getting old and senile."

Destro laughed. "I think you're right." He then sighed, "I better share this information with the Commander. I wouldn't want him to think I'm hiding something from him." He picked up the phone and called the Commander's office. A few minutes later Cobra Commander walked in.

"What is this new information that is so vital, Destro?" He asked in an annoyed tone. He had just convinced his secretary to give him some personal attention.

"Oh, nothing much, just the whole G.I. Joe plan of attack." Destro replied and the Baroness handed the Commander the files.

Cobra Commander laughed as he read through the report. "That's it? This is too easy! All we need to do is blow two airplanes out of the sky, and our opposition is finished."

Destro shook his head, "We might need to take a more subtle approach, Commander. I've already given my contact the information he needs to hamper the Joes plans. We'll take the covert team out one by one, so we don't arouse too much suspicion. Meanwhile, the advisors will be spinning their wheels. By the time the rest of the Joes get the go-ahead to lead an all out attack, our armies will be strong enough to successfully defend our position."

"Excellent, Destro, excellent." Cobra Commander replied. The three smiled at each other secure in the belief that nothing would stop them this time.


	3. Tiddlywinks

February 22, 2000

Kirovohrad

It had been a long day. Seven hours to Paris followed by a one-hour layover at Charles de Gaulle International. After another three hour flight, they were finally in Kirovohrad. Lady Jaye wasn't even sure what time zone she was in, let alone the time. However, she, Dial-Tone and Shipwreck knew they had a job to do, so they trudged forward. They cleared through customs without a problem, their temporary identities being French journalists, and were now waiting for their mysterious point of contact to pick them up.

"Uh, Jaye, since we don't know who is coming to get us, how do we know who we're supposed to go with?" Shipwreck asked the question of the hour.

"I don't know. I just assumed they would know us…"

"Well, isn't it a small world!" Dial-Tone suddenly called out.

Shipwreck turned to see what Dial-Tone was talking about and grinned. "Flint! Man, am I glad to see you."

At the mention of his name, Lady Jaye turned around. Her heart skipped a beat, and she had to keep herself from gasping. Besides the fact that she could tell the last few weeks had been hard on him, he looked pretty much the same as he did three years ago. She still thought he was one of the more handsome men that she knew. When he was done shaking hands with the two men, he faced his former fiancée, put his hand on her shoulder and said, "Hey, Jaye. It's good to see you again."

"It's good to see you too, Flint." He was so nonchalant about the encounter that he must have already known she was coming. Either that, or it just didn't phase him as much to see her.

Actually, Flint was struggling to remain poised. He thought he had it all under control until he actually saw her. She still looked so good, and so many moments from their past were racing through his mind.

An awkward silence began until Shipwreck spoke up. "So where's our ride? All I want to do now is find a bed and sleep."

That jarred Flint back to reality. "Sorry. My car is parked in the lot." They walked out to the car and Shipwreck and Dial-tone, being the gentleman they are, offered Lady Jaye the front seat. They all got in and Flint drove away. After they were out of the airport, Flint began his briefing. "Welcome to Kirohovrad. The CIA had established their headquarters here as well as a few safe houses in the area. We're heading to one of those on the outskirts of town where you'll get a chance to rest for a couple of hours. Then I'll get you guys up to speed, and give you your assignments. So for now, just sit back and make yourself comfortable."

Lady Jaye laughed to herself. There wasn't a shot in hell she'd be making herself comfortable any time soon. She just kept quiet and looked out her window. Another awkward silence began, and once again Shipwreck jumped in. "So, Flint what have you been up to? Has life been one exciting adventure after another?"

Flint laughed. "I guess you could say that. I have been pretty busy, and I have seen the world. But you know the old saying, 'I could tell you more but then I'd have to kill you.'"

Lady Jaye was interested to hear what he would say, and was disappointed that he kept it so vague.

"What about you guys, what have you been doing post-Joe?" Flint had addressed the question to the three of them, but Shipwreck spoke first.

"Been living the life of the sailor. I thought I wanted a normal life, but then I realized I wouldn't know what to do with it. So after the Joe team disbanded, I rejoined the Navy. Got stationed to a carrier. It was great. Went to exotic ports, met some beautiful women. My only problem was, I never wanted shore duty. The Navy thought I was nuts. They're always dealing with guys who can't get off the ship fast enough, and I was begging them to keep me on one. I think they were thrilled when Hawk asked me to be transferred back."

Flint laughed again. _Typical Shipwreck._ "How about you, DT? Did you stay military?"

"Nah, I got out. I took a job with Lucent Technologies shortly after. Been with them ever since. Oh, and I also got married."

Lady Jaye whipped around in her seat. She had just spent ten hours on a plane with the man, and she couldn't believe this was the first she was hearing of this piece of news. "Dial-Tone! I didn't know. Congratulations! Who is she? How did you guys meet?"

"Her name is Linda. She also works for Lucent. We've been married for a little over a year." Dial-Tone was beaming.

Lady Jaye was really happy for Dial-Tone. She always hoped that he would meet someone. "Congratulations, again." While Flint and Shipwreck were also congratulating him, Lady Jaye muttered, "Well, at least someone has a happy love life." She said it purposely for Flint to hear, but he had made no indications that he had.

Flint, Dial-Tone and Shipwreck began making small talk, catching up with what had been going on with their life. Flint was the most secretive, revealing very little about the past few years.

As she was listening to them, Lady Jaye began drifting off. She was awakened by Flint gently shaking her and saying, "Wake up Sleepy-head, we're here." She smiled at the name. It's what he used to say to her in the morning when she was reluctant to get out of bed.

"Sorry. I didn't realize how tired I was," she apologized.

"Trust me, I know." Flint answered. "I've done these flights too many times. I'll show you to your temporary rooms, let you take a nap. We'll go over the plans later."

Lady Jaye got out of the car, and saw that Dial-Tone and Shipwreck were already inside. She was still really tired, and another nap sounded like a great idea. She didn't have the energy to talk to Flint, to try and find out more about his life. So she just nodded and started walking into the building.

"Lady Jaye, wait a minute," Flint said. She stopped and turned to face him. He started to say something and then stopped. Finally he just said, "I'm glad you're here."

Lady Jaye smiled. "I'm glad I'm here too."

A few hours later

The Joes were in the living room waiting for Lady Jaye to come down from her room. Shipwreck was watching Flint as he gazed blankly at the stairs, obviously anxious for Lady Jaye to make her appearance. Shipwreck decided he would ruffle his feathers a little so he walked over to Flint.

"Hey, Flint. I've got a question for you," Shipwreck said.

Flint was deep in thought and didn't hear him at first. Shipwreck had to shake his shoulder to get his attention. "Uh, Earth to Flint, do you read us?"

Flint finally realized the sailor was there and turned towards him. "Sorry. I was just thinking about this mission."

"Yeah, sure you were," Shipwreck replied with a smirk. "Now that I have your attention, I want to ask your permission for something."

"What is it, Shipwreck?" Flint asked a little annoyed.

"Since you and Jaye seem to be on a permanent split, I was wondering if it would be okay, if I pursued her. You know I've always had a crush on her," Shipwreck said with a huge grin on his face.

Flint shot him a look that could have killed him but then said, "Sure."

Flint's blessing momentarily stunned Shipwreck. "Really? You mean it?"

Flint put his hand on Shipwreck's shoulders. "Yes, I mean it. However, I will have to break both of your legs beforehand."

Shipwreck laughed nervously, and luckily they both heard the sounds of a door slamming upstairs. Flint muttered "Finally." He picked up the files and took his position at the front of the room. Lady Jaye came down the stairs a few moments later.

She smiled at Flint, "Sorry, I wanted to take a quick shower."

He was wondering if she was purposely trying to torture him. She had on jeans and a tight sweater, and her hair was still damp. She looked so sexy, that he was asking himself how he could have been so stupid to let her go. He noticed that Shipwreck was still grinning at him, and he quickly focused on the material at hand.

Clearing his throat Flint began, "Shipwreck, you're heading to the shipyards in Crimea. You're going to talk to the locals, and try to round up some support for us. They still have a tie to Russia, and we're going to need their help with this." He handed Shipwreck some paperwork that included his new identity and a map of the area.

"Lady Jaye, you're going to be our insider in Kiev. You'll be reporting directly to the head of the Eastern Europe division, Albert Gorman. He flew in to make sure we don't screw up. I wish I could give you something meatier, but you've got to play this our way, and that means you're going in as a diplomatic attaché from the United Kingdom." Flint shrugged and waited for the inevitable objection.

Lady Jaye just stared at him for a few moments. She had expected a cover more fitting to the praise that Hawk and the CIA boys in Washington had heaped upon her. The role of diplomatic attaché was nowhere near the top of the list. "Ha ha, very funny. What's my real cover?"

Flint lowered his head and sighed. He had told Gorman that this would never fly with her, but he hadn't listened. Gorman had said that if Jaye was as good as everyone said she was then she wouldn't have a problem with it. _That's easy for him to say. He's not the one telling her._ "It's not a joke. That's your real assignment."

"They can't be serious." Lady Jaye argued, "Cobra and anyone else will be able to figure out very quickly that I'm not who I say I am. Everyone knows that any new diplomatic personnel that arrive on the heels of some international crisis are likely linked to an intelligence group. I can't believe you all haven't figured that one out yet. No wonder you missed Cobra's political run before it was too late."

"Look, I'm just the messenger here. I'm totally in agreement with you, but I'm not the one calling the shots. Your contact, Albert Gorman, is. Take your objections up with him when you get to Kiev. Anything else you want to get off your chest?" Flint asked with a note of frustration.

_Yes. Where did we go wrong and why haven't we spoken to each other in three year? What have you been doing? Is there someone new in your life? Does it hurt you to miss me as much as it hurts me to miss you?_ She just sighed and opened up the package Flint had handed her. "No."

"Good." Flint said, then resumed his briefing. "Dial-Tone, you'll stay with me and help build the resistance movement here. You'll also work on setting up reliable and secure communications between Washington and us. I don't have to tell you the success of this mission along with the safety of Shipwreck and Lady Jaye count on you."

Dial-Tone shook his head. "You don't have to tell me twice, Flint. I won't let you down."

"I didn't think you would." Flint turned his attention away from Dial-Tone and addressed his next remarks to the group. "Okay. Lady Jaye, you'll head out tonight for Kiev with Sergei driving. I apologize for the lack of preparation time. Shipwreck, you'll head out tomorrow for the Crimea. Dial-Tone and I will get started tomorrow working with some of the local groups too. Dismissed."

Dial-Tone and Shipwreck stood up and decided to head out to one of the local bars, the unspoken exchange between the two acknowledging that Flint and Lady Jaye could use some time alone. Lady Jaye continued to study her assignment as Flint pulled up a chair next to her. After a few false starts where he would utter at most a syllable and run his hand through his hair Flint finally gained the strength needed to speak. "I just wanted you to know that I really do agree with you on this. I spent two hours trying to convince Gorman that making you an attaché was a bad idea but he wouldn't hear any of it. And unfortunately I lack the kind of clout needed to go over his head. I'm sorry."

All throughout Flint's speech Lady Jaye had kept her eyes on the page she was reading, unsure of where Flint planned to take the conversation. She couldn't help but smile as Flint stammered and then slowly made his way through the apology. It reminded her of when they first started dating and he could barely make it through asking her which movie she'd like to see let alone telling her that he loved her. "I should be the one apologizing for being such a bitch to you," she said, "I would have gotten my head chewed off by Hawk if I had pulled that with him."

"I seem to remember that Hawk would chew someone's head off for doing anything out of line during a mission briefing, like breathing heavy."

"Good point." They sat in silence for a few seconds, neither one knowing what to say next. Flint looked like he was about to break the silence when a cough and a knock broke it.

Sergei was leaning against the door failing badly in his attempt to look apologetic. In broken English he said, "Sorry, but we must leave if we're to get to Kiev by morning. I already put your bags in the car." He walked out of the room and they could hear the front door opening and closing a few seconds later.

They looked at each other for another second and then Lady Jaye finally spoke. "I guess that's my cue to leave."

"Looks like it." Before either knew what was going on Flint hugged Lady Jaye. It wasn't the deep embrace of lovers, but wasn't the barely touching hug of friends. It was just tight enough to make both wonder what was going on and where things were headed. "Good luck."

Afraid of what would come out of her mouth Lady Jaye just nodded and left the house. The car was already running and as soon as she closed the door Sergei pulled out of the driveway. It wasn't until they left the city limits that he spoke. "I apologize for making you leave so soon. We have someone to meet though before reaching Kiev. Joe Don wants to see you."

Lady Jaye began to worry, not sure if this was a Cobra setup. "Who the hell is Joe Don?"

"Joe Don told me not to tell you. Said it would all make sense once you two met up."

Realizing she wasn't going to get anything further out of Sergei, ady Jaye settled back in her seat and hoped she wasn't being driven to her death.

Moscow

Duke had a pounding headache. His team had arrived in Moscow only a couple of hours earlier. He jumped right in, and tried to talk with Vladimir Putin. He had gotten as far as one of the President's secretaries who told Duke that Putin was very busy, and would try to have one of his staff members speak to him. That man, in turn, blew him off. He kept postponing the meeting, and then told Duke to come back tomorrow.

"So, boss, what the fuck do we do now?" Stalker asked.

"We continue to be as visible as possible." Duke answered. " We try to talk some sense into these idiots, and hope that Jaye and the others have better luck. For now, let's call it a day. We'll start fresh tomorrow."

All Duke wanted to do was find his wife and unwind. Scarlett was trying to locate the Oktober Guard, and he hoped that she had better luck than he did. He said good-bye to Stalker, and got into his car. They had been set up in temporary housing, and after a twenty-minute drive, he pulled into the driveway. He called for her as he walked into the house. He found her in the bedroom wiping away tears.

"Hon, what's wrong?" he asked.

"I just got off the phone with your parents. Everything's fine." She clarified when she saw the look of alarm cross his face, "I just miss her so much."

"I know you do, I do too," Duke replied and he hugged her. "Is she running her grandparents ragged?"

"They wouldn't admit it, but I bet she is. I'm sorry, I thought I would be better able to handle this."

"Don't apologize." Duke said trying to console her. "You wouldn't be a good mother if you didn't miss your little girl. You know, you could go back anytime. The others won't think any less of you if you decided to fly back to the States."

"No, I couldn't do that. I couldn't leave you. I know she's fine, and your mom and step-dad love having her over. I think this is all due to having a completely useless couple of hours." Scarlett answered.

"So I take it you were no more successful than I was today?" Duke asked.

"No. They had me running in circles, trying to locate the Oktober Guard. Nobody would give me a straight answer on where their members are now. It was so frustrating."

"Trust me, I know how you feel." Duke then told her about his afternoon in Putin's office. When he finished Scarlett rubbed his back. Then Duke's face brightened as he said, "I almost forgot to tell you, you're never going to believe who I got a phone call from today."

"Who?" Scarlett asked.

"Flint. He's working with Lady Jaye and the rest of the team. He's been working here for the CIA the last couple of years."

Scarlett's face also brightened up, "That is so great to hear. Lady Jaye was so disappointed when he wasn't at Headquarters, maybe now they can finally work through their problems."

Duke laughed, "You're still a hopeless romantic, aren't you?"

"Hey, I just want them to be as happy as we are." Scarlett answered and kissed her still grinning husband.

Somewhere between Kirovohrad and Kiev

The bartender smiled and pointed to a table in the back that was situated apart from the others. Due to the poor lighting, all Jaye could be certain of was that someone was sitting at the table and drinking something. She had her misgivings about this whole affair, but it was clear that Sergei was not going to let her leave without seeing Joe Don. She had briefly contemplated jumping out of the car, but realized that was a losing proposition since she didn't really know the area. Upon reaching the table and finally seeing whom the woman called Joe Don really was Jaye dropped her guard and smiled. "I should've known you'd be here. Please tell me the boys in Langley didn't actually give you papers naming you Joe Don."

"Is that it? No hug. No 'how are you, long time no see'? Just 'hope your name isn't Joe Don'?" She got out of the booth and the two women hugged. A minute or so later both had sat back down and 'Joe Don' continued to talk. "For the record I am not going by the name of Joe Don. Our friend here unfortunately saw Goldeneye one too many times and therefore associates me with the CIA character played by Joe Don Baker. I let it stick because it's good for a laugh. You can call me Beth Harkins."

"Always go for the short names, don't you?"

"Damn right. Hell of a lot easier to remember," Beth said, taking a sip of vodka.

"While this is an unexpected and nice surprise, what the hell are you doing here?" Jaye asked.

"Trying to clean up Gorman's mess. There's a good group of agents out here and we should've seen this coming. There's no excuse for them not noticing Destro or Cobra Commander during the past two years. I've actually been in and out of the area since that drunken nut Yeltsin resigned trying to figure out how we missed that one. Something isn't adding up, but there's not enough to properly point fingers. Gorman and the rest of the agents don't know I'm here. Only the CIA director knows I'm here."

"Do you really think there's a double agent in our midst?" Lady Jaye asked.

"I don't know what to think. All I know is that it's my job to figure out whether the group out here is just incompetent or if something else is on. Speaking of which, what cover did Gorman set up for you?"

Jaye started to open her mouth and shut it, figuring pictures would be more appropriate. She just handed the package over and waited for Beth's reaction. It wasn't long in coming when a few minutes later Beth's eyes grew wide and she spit the vodka she was sipping. "I had a feeling this was going to be bad. When is he expecting you?"

"Tomorrow morning." As Jaye answered Beth pulled out an envelope and passed it to Jaye.

"Not any more. Hey Brant, come here and bring a plate over." The bartender left the bar and came over to Beth's table with the plate she requested. She pulled out a lighter, set the flame up high and then put it to a corner of the envelope holding the information from Gorman.

Jaye stared at the flaming remnants of her cover and then looked back to Beth. "What are you doing?"

"No way in hell I'm letting you show up as an attaché in the middle of an international crisis. That's just slapping a bull's-eye on your chest. Plus, if there is someone in the group giving out info then you could be in danger. Can you do a British accent?"

"What do you mean 'can I do a British accent'? You've seen a few of my plays."

"A rendition of Shakespeare's 'Hamlet' in 1890's New Orleans does not make you qualified to do a British accent."

Jaye rolled her eyes. "Would you like a cockney accent guvnor or would you like the prim and proper Margaret Thatcher." Jaye seamlessly moved between accents as she talked to Beth.

Beth smiled. "Works for me. Jaye, meet Brant Rodgers. Brant, this is Lady Jaye." The two shook hands and exchanged pleasantries. "Brant here works for MI6 and just happens to run this lovely hole in the wall. You know how the Brits need their pubs."

"That's because you bloody Americans are all drunks. We're just taking a page from your book on capitalism," Brant said with a smile as he took away the plate holding the embers of Lady Jaye's former cover.

"Isn't he charming? Anyway, in that little envelope I handed you are all the vitals you'll need to know to play Brant's wife, Samantha. She was supposed to come around this time for a visit since his cover within the British Consulate is Head of Security. When the Cobra stuff happened he told her not to come. When they told me that you were coming over I set it up with Brant to have this on hand in case I viewed the cover given to you by Gorman as unsafe. He talked her arrival up enough that people are expecting someone to show up so your arrival won't be much of a surprise. You'll arrive in the city with Brant in two days time. Before then you'll stay in an apartment on the outskirts of Kiev and bone up on being his wife."

"How am I going to settle this with Gorman?" Jaye asked.

"Leave that all up to me. As far as that's concerned you're gonna to interact with him as Samantha. Oh, and since we don't know what the hell is going around here I don't trust the communication lines so I don't want you talking to the other Joes."

Beth settled back into the booth while pulling out a pack of cigarettes. Lighting one she started to talk until she noticed the look on Lady Jaye's face. "What?"

"I thought you quit smoking." She replied with a frown.

"You know I don't smoke when I'm in the states. I just light up when I'm overseas. Keeps from obsessing over an assignment. So, besides your fixation over my oral fixation how was the trip?" Beth began to grin. "Meet any cute guys on the way here?"

"We know what 'cute guy' you're talking about. How come no one told me that Flint was going to be a part of this?"

"One, we didn't tell you because I knew your past history and I was afraid you'd back out if you knew he was a part of this so I made sure Hawk left that out of the briefing. Two, we honestly didn't know if we could pull him out to work on this." Jaye laughed as she heard Beth's explanation. "What's so funny?"

"Do you hear yourself? Years ago you were worried about whether or not you'd fit in and here you are organizing the game we're currently playing. You've come a long way. I'm proud of you."

Beth smiled and blushed. "Thanks. That means a lot." The food that Beth had ordered before Lady Jaye and Sergei arrived was put on the table and the two ate in silence for a while. Eventually Beth started up the conversation again. "Okay, fifty thousand dollar question: why did you come back?"

"Come back to what?"

"This. The whole dog and pony show of covert operations and government bureaucracy. I thought you were done with this when they disbanded the Joe team hence your refusal of our offer."

Lady Jaye sighed. She knew this point of conversation was going to come up eventually. She had expected Flint to be the one to bring it up though so she was unprepared when Beth asked her. "I'm not sure. I think I came back because I realized there was unfinished business with Cobra. How could I continue to be on a theater stage every night when Cobra was busy taking over the world?"

"Hello! Last I knew evil didn't stop doing evil shit when Cobra decided to go into hiding. Granted, no one's as evil as Cobra but there have been some pretty nasty ones around in the past five years. You still could've made a difference working for us."

"Did you and Flint finally meet up and talk about me? Where's this coming from?"

"It comes from me knowing what kind of game this really is this time out. If our worse case scenario comes true then the whole face of the world may change. This could make everything you've done in the past look like a game of tiddlywinks." Beth looked at her watch and swore. "Nuts, I gotta go off and take care of some things. I'll leave you in Brant's more than capable hands."

"So soon? It's been so long since we last got a chance to talk."

"I know, but I've got to do some things this evening. Trust me, we'll see each other a lot during this since you'll be reporting to me. Brant and I will work on setting up meetings." Beth got out of the booth, stubbing her cigarette out in the ashtray. She held out her hand towards Lady Jaye.

Now it was Lady Jaye's turn to act offended as she stood up. "What? All I get is a handshake?" The two grinned and then hugged. "Be careful."

Beth pulled away and continued grinning. "Don't worry. And I promise, when this is all over and we get back to the states we'll get together. I'll drag Jason out and you can drag Flint along. It'll be fun."

"You have time to play matchmaker during all of this?"

"I make the time because I know a good thing when I see it." Before Lady Jaye could say anything else Beth turned and walked out of the bar. Lady Jaye sighed and walked over to Brant to see when they were heading out.

February 23, 2000

Kirovohrad, CIA Safe House

Flint was trying not to smile as he watched Dial-Tone work on the instruments. Dial-Tone had become so flustered. They had been working on the equipment for most of the day, with a brief break to see Shipwreck off as he headed to the Crimea. Flint turned his attention away from Dial-Tone and back to the thoughts he'd been having the last twenty-four hours since Lady Jaye had arrived back in his life.

He had pretty much decided that once this conflict was over he was going to have a long talk with her. It didn't go well the last time he attempted a reconciliation, but he saw what mistakes he had made then, and vowed not to repeat it this time around. It might end the same way, but he knew he had to at least try again. Seeing her yesterday reaffirmed how much he wanted her back in his life.

With that course of action settled, he tried to focus again on the mission. She still had the knack for diverting his attention from his job. He could remember a time or two when his emotions ruled his actions on the battlefield. He had been very lucky that neither Duke nor Hawk had busted him for his transgressions. That could be attributed to his skills and leadership abilities. His teammates had always respected him, and let his moments of weakness slide.

Flint was brought back to his present situation by the clanging of tools. Dial-Tone was still tinkering with the equipment.

"Just a little bit of care. Not much. Maybe a dusting every couple of weeks." Dial-tone muttered as he unscrewed the back off one of radios. When he had it apart he let out a gasp. "Would you look at this thing? It has never been cleaned! You poor thing."

He began vacuuming the interior while continuing his muttering. Flint decided he had all he could take of that little scene and luckily for him, the secure phone rang. "Dash, here." Flint answered.

"What is the matter with you GI Joe types? You think you guys are so special that you don't need to keep appointments?" Albert Gorman was screaming into the phone.

"Excuse me?"

"Your teammate apparently thinks she's too good to meet with me. She never made her nine o'clock appointment," Gorman explained.

Flint looked at his watch. It was after noon. He became very worried. "It's not like her to just blow off appointments. Something must have happened."

"Well, when you find her tell her to get her ass in here ASAP." He was completely oblivious to Flint's concern, and hung up the phone.

Dial-Tone looked up from his work. He saw the look on Flint's face. "What's the matter?"

"Lady Jaye never made her appointment with Gorman. He's pretty pissed." Flint answered. He then picked up the phone again and called Mary Olsen's office.

"Olsen." She said into the phone.

"Mary, it's Dash. I think we have a problem. Lady Jaye left last night to meet up with Gorman this morning. However, she never made her appointment. I haven't heard from her since she left."

"Hmmm. I don't like the sound of this." Mary answered and paused for a moment. "Let me look into this and I'll let you know anything I find out."

Flint hung up the phone. He suddenly had a real bad feeling. Dial-Tone saw this and tried to console him. "Flint, I'm sure she's fine. There are a million reasons why she could have missed that meeting."

Flint then spent a very anxious half hour waiting for the phone to ring again. When it did, he jumped on it.

"Dash," Mary began, and Flint could tell instantly from the sound of her voice that it was bad news. "I don't know how to tell you this… There was a bad car accident last night. The roads had turned icy, and Sergei must have lost control. They were both killed instantly."

Flint felt the strength go out of his legs. He really needed to sit down. "Are you sure it was them?" He asked in a shaky voice.

"Yes. Lady Jaye had her dog tags on, and we identified Sergei through the jewelry he was wearing. We pulled some strings so you won't see any names in the paper. Should allow us to maintain the integrity of the mission." She didn't want to add that the bodies had been burned beyond visual recognition and only by the above items were they able to make the identification. She had known about Dash's and the woman's past relationship. She wished she knew how to comfort him at this moment. "Dash, I'm truly sorry."

"Thanks, Mary. At least I know now." He said and hung up the phone.

Dial-Tone knew it was bad. "Flint, what happened?"

Flint had his back to him. Without turning around he said, "Jaye and Sergei were killed last night in a car wreck." He then walked out of the room, leaving Dial-Tone standing there in shock.


	4. You and I

**You and I**

**February 23, 2000**

**Kiev, Presidential Building**

**1300 hours local time**

Cobra Commander walked into Destro's office. "Bravo, Destro. I sincerely applaud you." He said as he began clapping.

"I appreciate the well-wishes, Commander, but I'm afraid I don't know what you are talking about." Destro replied.

Cobra Commander handed Destro the paper. "There was a car crash late last night with two passengers dead. Our man confirms that the charred bodies were that of Lady Jaye and some local that was working with her. Naturally they had to cover up the real identities, but he says it's them."

"Thank you, Commander, but I can read Ukrainian." He scanned the article and then said, "I'd like to take credit for this, but I can't."

"What? Are you telling me they killed themselves on their own?" Cobra Commander asked.

"I'm just telling you I didn't arrange it." Destro answered.

"Either way we have one less headache to worry about." Cobra Commander replied as he took a seat on the leather couch in Destro's office "So who cares how it happened?"

Destro frowned as he rescanned the article. "I don't like it. It's too much of a coincidence. Maybe we should call back Zartan and his goons"

"Too late. I already sent them out, and they're under strict radio silence. I don't want them affiliated with us in case they screw this up."

Destro laughed. "Zartan? Screw something up? You must be joking." He said sarcastically. Then he turned serious, "That is the exact reason, Commander that you should call off this little mission."

"No. I want the Joes taken care of. They have no right to be sneaking around in my country." Commander said ending the conversation. "Shouldn't you be heading to Moscow to meet with Putin, soon?"

"I was in the middle of packing when you came in. I hope you don't mind, but the Baroness will be accompanying me, as my advisor."

Cobra Commander shook his head. "Even after all these years, I still don't know what you see in her."

"To each his own. Now, commander if you'll excuse me, I have to finish up here." Destro said as he stood up and walked to the door. He then opened the door as a hint to the commander.

Cobra Commander remained seated for a moment. "One more thing, Destro. I think it's better if Yelchichev stays here."

Destro crossed his arms and stared down at the commander. "He's already made a commitment to attend this summit. Are you afraid to let your lap dog out of your sight?"

"Shouldn't I be?" The commander asked. "I don't want that fool out on his own making decisions for us. If you go alone you show Putin and the rest of the world who really is in charge here."

Destro thought about it for a moment before replying, "Alright. I'll talk to Olexander when I am done here."

Cobra Commander nodded as he rose from the couch. "Good. Don't forget to tell Putin about the olive branch, and the consequences of him not accepting it."

"I know, Commander, I know." Destro replied and closed the door behind Cobra Commander.

**CIA Safe House, Kirovohrad**

**1330 hours local time**

After leaving Dial-Tone, Flint locked himself in the bedroom he was using. He sat down on the bed and put his head in his hands. Each time the phrase 'She was killed in a car accident' went through his mind, he felt a cold fist hit his stomach, and knives go through his heart. The only woman that he had ever really loved was now dead.

Part of him couldn't believe it. Just as he had began hoping that they could try again to make their relationship work. He thought back to his last reconciliation attempt; the night that he went to see her after one of her performances. It was about a year after they had broken up. He was getting ready to leave for Russia on his first real assignment, and he had gotten a couple of days off to put his affairs in order. He decided to go find her and say goodbye. After the show, he flagged down, Mark, her producer, and asked if he could go see her. Mark had remembered him, and got him cleared to go on back.

_He found her laughing with another woman, but she suddenly stopped and went pale as she looked at him. She quickly got up and went to him. _

_"Hello, Dash. This is quite a surprise." She was doing her best to look composed, but he could tell that she was very surprised to see him. _

_"I had a couple of days off, and I thought I'd stop by and see you. I got these flowers for you." He handed her a bouquet of roses. _

_She took the flowers. "Thank you, that was very sweet." She noticed her friends grinning at her, "Let's go somewhere more private." Since it was a small play, there were no private dressing rooms, so she debated where to take him. "Um, it's hard to get privacy here. We could go out somewhere, or back to my apartment, it's within walking distance." _

_"Your apartment would be fine." Flint replied, and hoped he didn't sound too anxious. This trip had been totally spur of the moment. He decided to go to New York to see if he could still track her down. He went to her apartment that he remembered from the Christmas two years ago, but she wasn't at home. He didn't want to spend all day waiting in front of her door, so he started wandering the streets. He had picked up a copy of the Village Voice, which had an advertisement for her current play. When he saw her name, he had decided it was fate to find her again. He didn't know what he had expected from this meeting. They hadn't even spoken in a year. He was trying to tell himself that his intentions were noble, and not just the fact that he was bored and horny. _

_"Okay. Let me just get my coat." She said and walked back to the dressing room she was using. _

_"You were wonderful, tonight. I'm still amazed every time I see you how talented you are. I don't know why you haven't made Broadway yet," Flint commented. _

_Lady Jaye laughed. "Dash, I'm not that good. But thanks for the positive review. I'm taking a chance with this play, so hopefully the critics will be as generous. So, tell me, how's the CIA?" _

_"I don't really know yet. I'm still in training. However, I leave on my first assignment next week. They've been drilling into my head all this information. It's so repetitive, and sometimes I wonder if they're training me too hard." Flint paused. He couldn't really articulate his concerns, "I'm sure it's nothing, just pre-assignment jitters." _

_"I'm sure it'll be fine. You're the most capable military man I know." _

_"Well, I don't know how good of an agent I'll be." Flint replied. "Anyway, I didn't come here to talk about my jitters."_

_Lady Jaye decided to be blunt, "Why did you come here Dash?" They had now reached her apartment building and were walking up the stairs to her apartment. _

_"To be honest, I really don't know. I got my time off, and it just occurred to me to come up here. I guess I wanted to say goodbye. We didn't exactly leave too amicably the last time." _

_She unlocked her apartment and invited him in. She went straight to the refrigerator and grabbed two beers. "No we didn't. Where are you being sent?" _

_Flint shook his head, "I can't tell you that. Pretty much everything I do now is top-secret, and you don't have that clearance any more." _

_He could tell that the comment really irked her. She immediately turned defensive. "I guess that means we have nothing to talk about. You hate my work, and I'm not cleared to hear about yours. So, thanks for stopping by, and good luck next week." _

_"Alison, don't. Please don't throw me out. I have the next two days off, I was hoping to spend it with you." _

_"Why? So we could spend it screaming at each other? Or are you hoping for one last lay before you go off never to be seen again?" _

_Now Flint was getting equally aggravated, "It's good to see you're the same pleasant human being. You know what, forget I came by, I'm sorry to inconvenience you." He then walked out of the apartment. _

_He had almost made it to the main entrance, when he heard her call out for him. "Dash! Wait! I'm sorry." At first he ignored her and continued walking. She continued after him and grabbed his arm, "Please. Don't go like this. I'm sorry for being such a bitch." _

"_Alison? Are you all right? Who is this strange man?" Flint felt a strange sense of deja-vu. The same nosy neighbor of Alison's that he had met during Christmas two years ago had come out into the hallway to find out what was going on._

_Lady Jaye fought to restrain a smile. She then turned to the neighbor, 'Yes, Mrs. Potts, I'm fine. Remember Dashiell? He's my fiancé, uh ex technically, but you met him a couple of Christmases ago."_

"_Oh yes. Now I remember." Mrs. Potts frowned at Flint, "Just keep the noise to a minimum, please. It is very late." She then retreated back inside._

_Flint looked at Lady Jaye and the two burst out laughing. "Do you get that all the time, or only when I'm here?" he asked._

"_All the Goddamn time." She lowered her voice, "I can't do a thing without her knowing about it. So, do you want to come back in?" _

_He nodded. Once inside she said, "Can we start this over? I guess I'm still insecure about not taking the CIA's offer. Even though I'm so happy with what I'm doing, I still wonder if I made the right choice." _

_"You can still join up. I know they - we still want you," Flint replied. He meant that last part as a double entendre, and hoped she would pick up on it. Even with all of the ugly fights they had, he knew he still loved her, and still found her so attractive. He wondered how he could feel this strongly about her, and still not make a relationship work. _

_She took a long swig of her beer. "I can't now. I'm committed to the play. Maybe in a few months." _

_Flint nodded, and decided to drop the matter. He really didn't want to start another fight, and this topic always got them going. Instead, they talked about other matters for a couple of hours. They finished off the six-pack that she had in her refrigerator, and were feeling pretty relaxed with each other. They were sitting on the couch, and as the night went on they had moved closer together, like their feelings were literally physically attracting them to each other. Flint was having a great time, however, in spite of himself, he started yawning. _

_Lady Jaye, who was in the middle of a story, suddenly stopped and looked at the time. It was after 2 in the morning. "Oh, Dash, I didn't realize how late it was. I've turned into a night owl, with all these evening performances. It's usually three O'clock before I wind down, but you must be exhausted." _

_He was, but he didn't want to admit it, and have the night end. He had booked a hotel room nearby, but it was the last place he wanted to be tonight. "No, really, I'm fine." _

_She looked at him, "Dash, you can barely keep your eyes open. Do you have a place to stay tonight?" _

_He decided to tell a little white lie on this issue. Earlier, he may have tried to convince himself that he didn't come here looking for sex, but now he knew that he was. It had been a very long year for him. Training to be a CIA agent is not exactly the type of work that would help you find a girlfriend. Besides one ill-fated attempt when they first broke up, he had not been with any other woman. "No. This trip was very spur of the moment." _

_She smiled when she heard that. "You're more than welcome to crash here. I have the couch or my bed." _

_Flint had to restrain himself from jumping at the offer of her bed. He wanted to find what her intentions were first. "I guess the question is, where do you want me to sleep?" _

_She paused a moment and then said, "Well, this couch is really uncomfortable. I've fallen asleep here a couple of nights, and I've woken up with horrible back pains. And since this wouldn't be the first time we slept together, I know that you make a great bedmate." _

_Flint once again had to restrain himself from jumping her. She must be pretty tipsy or else she was taking extreme pleasure in torturing him. He had his question answered a few minutes later, when after excusing herself, she returned wearing one of the nightgowns he had bought for her a couple of years ago. _

_"Do you remember when you got this for me?" she asked seductively. _

_"You bet I do. I also remember that you didn't have it on for long." _

_She laughed, "You're right. In fact I don't think any of the times that I put it on, I wore it for very long." _

_He went to her, "It always made me want you so bad. And I have to tell you, nothing's changed." He finally allowed himself to stop holding back and he kissed her hard. _

_She kissed him equally hard in return. "Dash, I've missed you so much." He lifted her up and carried her into her bedroom. The sex that followed was one of the most intense sessions the two had ever shared._

_They spent the rest of the night lying in each other arms. Every so often one would speak, but most of the night they were silent, just enjoying each other's company. Neither one wanted to ask the question that was running through their minds: 'What does this mean?' Both were afraid to jinx the moment. Just before dawn, they made love again and finally fell asleep. _

_Flint woke up first, and as he lay there he watched her sleep. He couldn't help but think that this is what he should have been doing every morning for the past year. She began to stir, and when she opened her eyes, he smiled at her and kissed her. _

_"So it wasn't a dream," she said sleepily. _

_"Nope, I'm really here whether you like it or not," he said. _

_"Oh, I definitely like it." _

_He hugged her tight, and then decided that this was the time to breach the subject on what exactly the implications of this were. "Alison, I was doing a lot of thinking earlier this morning. Remember how you said last night that you regretted your decision with the CIA? Well, like I said, it's not too late. Come back with me. We can still get you into the program. Obviously, you won't be able to come out with me right away, but I'm sure I could hurry along your training…" _

_She sat up in bed. "Whoa, Dash. Wait a minute. I never said I regretted my decision. Plus, I told you, I can't just drop out of the play. I made a commitment." _

_"But it's only a play. They could easily get someone to replace you." He honestly didn't believe how important this was to her. _

_Anger flashed in her eyes, "ONLY a play? That's how you feel about my life's work? I'm glad the truth is finally coming out, it helps me understand all this better. How would you feel if I asked you to give up your mid-life crisis and get a real job?" _

_"Alison, don't be ridiculous. You know I can't just get up and quit, I've spent too much time working on this." _

_"What the hell do you think I've been doing? This isn't easy either. I've worked awfully hard myself to get to this position, and I'm not going to throw it all away for no good reason." She instantly regretted the last words. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way." _

_"Yes you did. And I guess this means that nothing's changed." _

_Lady Jaye was about to reply, but the phone rang. She talked into the receiver for a couple of minutes and then hung up. "That was Mark. Silvia was supposed to do today's matinee, but she got the flu. I have to take her place." _

_"Can't they get someone else? We're in the middle of something here," Flint said. Now he was really annoyed that she was running out on him. _

_"I'm sorry, I'm the understudy for today's show so I have to go. The performance is at one and I'll be back by four. Maybe once we calm down, we could talk about this a little more civilly." _

_"There's nothing to talk about. You won't budge on the issue." _

_"Why is it that I have to be the one to give up what I want?" She then shook her head. "I'm not doing this, I have to get to the theater. I'll be back by four." _

"_Well, at least this time you're not leaving for some mystery man." He mumbled._

"_Excuse me?" She asked as turned on him._

"_The last time I was here the same thing happened. Phone rang, mystery man Jason was on the line and you took off on some top-secret mission. You can't by any chance be ready to explain that now, can you?"_

_Her eyes flashed with anger for a moment. She opened her mouth to speak, but then looked at the clock. "Not right now. Just give me until later this afternoon, and I can tell you everything you want to know."_

_She walked out of the bedroom and he called after her, "Alison if you leave now, I'm not going to wait for you. If you leave, I'm leaving too." _

_She looked at him with hurt in her eyes and said, "Fine. Do what you have to do." She then left the apartment. _

_Flint stood there staring at the closed door. He then picked up his shoe and threw it at the door. He meant what he had said, so he got dressed. When he put on his jacket, he remembered the item that he had brought with him. He took out the little box, and thought about the plan he had if things had gone differently between him and Lady Jaye. He went to put it back in his coat, but decided to leave it for her anyway. He found a piece of paper, and taking a few minutes to choose his words carefully wrote her an honest note from his heart. He then placed the box and paper on the nightstand by the bed. He looked at it once more, shook his head, and then left her apartment._

The tears that he had been holding back for so long began to flow. That night had been so perfect, but he had ruined it. What if he had just kept his stupid mouth shut? His whole relationship with her had been a bunch of what ifs: What if he had never taken the CIA job? What if he had given up the CIA position when he saw her again? What if he hadn't been so stubborn and walked out of her apartment? What if Hawk had never sent her out here in the first place? The last one was the only one he could answer. She would still be alive and he wouldn't be here sobbing over how he had lost his chance with her forever.

A knock on the door jarred him back to reality. Dial-Tone called through the door "Flint?"

Flint opened the door in a rush. "What?"

"Ummm… I know how much you care, uh, cared, for Lady Jaye and I just wanted to make sure you were all right," Dial-Tone stammered.

"I'm fucking terrific. In fact I'm on top of the Goddamn world. Thanks for asking." He started to close the door, but suddenly decided he really needed to get out of the house. He pushed passed Dial-Tone.

"Flint, where are you going?"

"I need some air. I'm taking the car." He replied as he grabbed the car keys off of the counter. He then slammed the door shut behind him and sped away in the car.

**Pentagon, Washington DC**

**0830 hours, local time (1530 hours, Kiev)**

Hawk yawned and drained the last of his coffee. He had lost track of how many cups he already drank this morning. In the civilian world, the workday was just beginning. He, however, had been at his desk a good three hours.

He stood up and stretched. It was time for a ten-minute break. He walked out into the hallway and past Mainframe's desk. Mainframe was on the phone and looked grim. "Sure, Dial-Tone. He's right here in fact." Mainframe pressed the hold button and replaced the phone. "Hawk, it's Dial-Tone. I'm afraid he has some bad news."

"Thanks, Mainframe. I'll take it in my office." He replied with a knot in his stomach. He wondered how bad the news was.

He found out a few minutes later that it was pretty bad. Dial-Tone had just finished telling him the news of Lady Jaye's car crash.

"They are sure it was her?" He asked.

"Yes, sir. The CIA made a positive identification." Dial-Tone answered.

He fought to keep his personal feelings under control while he figured out the impact it would have on the mission. "Who knows about this?" He asked.

"Just you, me and Flint." Dial-Tone said and then paused, "And, sir, Flint's taken the news rather hard."

_I bet he has._ "Where is he now?" Hawk asked.

"That's just it Hawk, I don't know. He left a couple of hours ago in a rage, and hasn't been back since."

_Shit_. Hawk thought. _The last thing I need is for him to fall apart._ "I'm sure he'll be back. Flint's an emotional man, and this is a tough blow for him, but he still is a highly trained soldier. Just give him some time to work through his grief. Keep to your plan, and I'll work on replacing Lady Jaye." After Dial-Tone's response of "Yes, sir." Hawk continued, "And keep an eye on Flint. If you don't think he can handle this, let me know."

Dial-Tone again answered with a "Yes, sir" and then the connection was broken. Hawk sat quietly at his desk deep in thought. He felt that while General of the Joes, he had treated all of his men with the same respect. Granted there were one or two that had frustrated the hell out of him, but for the most part he had liked all of them. There were also a select few that he hat put in a higher category. He had worked a lot with Lady Jaye, her clerical duties kept her in close contact with all of the command team, and he had placed her in that group. Her death was a terrible tragedy, and it saddened him to think she was truly gone. Standard protocol required him to make a call to the next of kin, but this situation was not standard. He would have to wait until the completion of the mission before he made any phone calls to her family. The first phone call he is going to make is to Bellows' office. There is no reason why he should be getting this news from one of his men in the field.

His thoughts then went to Flint. Hawk had tried to sound confident to Dial-Tone when he told him that Flint would pull through this. However, in reality, he wasn't totally convinced of that fact. He remembered a few missions when Flint's emotions had gotten the better of him. He wasn't sure what had happened between Flint and Lady Jaye during the down time. He had heard the rumors floating around HQ the night the Joes returned, but he never had gotten a definite story. No matter what the story was he knew that Flint was surely suffering now.

**Ukraine Countryside**

**1600 hours, local time**

Flint had been driving aimlessly for over two hours. The tears had started up again, and he had been ashamed to face anyone. He found a deserted stretch of road that he kept driving up and down on. Part of him was wondering if he was trying to will on himself the same fate as Lady Jaye. Right now the idea of having the car skid out of control was appealing, since it would take him away from the anguish he was in now. He then had a thought and turning his cell phone on he called Mary. He had kept it off the whole time, because he did not want to be bothered by anyone.

She answered the phone, and after he identified himself she said, "Dash. We've been wondering where you were. Dial-Tone called us. He's pretty worried about you."

Flint ignored her and asked the question that was the whole reason for his phone call, "Where did it happen?"

"Excuse me?"

"The wreck. Where did the car wreck happen?" He repeated.

"Hold on. I need to look up the exact area." She returned a few minutes later with the location.

Flint hung up the phone, and looked at the map he had stashed in the car. His Ukrainian had been steadily improving the last couple of years, and he was able to locate the route to the area he wanted. He had decided that he needed some closure, and this was the first step he needed to take.

He identified the site as soon as he saw it. On a two-lane road, just after an 'S' shaped turn, was a steep incline that went down 50 feet into a riverbank below. The trees in the one area were scarred, and many of the bushes were flattened. He parked the car, and began to climb down the ravine. He gasped when he saw the car. Or actually, what was left of the car. It was basically nothing more than a burnt shell. He was trying not to imagine what her last seconds alive were like. He hoped that she had been knocked unconscious by the fall, and didn't suffer.

Flint walked over to the passenger side, and laid down a bouquet of roses that he bought on the way here. She had always loved roses. He never did buy her enough flowers. He never did enough romantic things for her.

"I'm sorry Alison." He said aloud, "I'm so sorry things didn't…" He trailed off as he heard the sounds of branches breaking behind him. He turned around, and saw a woman hiding in the shadows of the trees. He pulled out the gun he always kept on him and called to her, "Hey, you in the shadows, get out here now."

"All right, tough guy. You could put the gun away." She said as she came into the open.

Flint did a double take. For a moment he thought he was looking at Lady Jaye. However, when she came fully out into the open, he realized he was mistaken. The woman was younger, shorter and skinnier than Lady Jaye was, and her hair was much shorter. When Flint looked at her a second time, he couldn't even see why he thought of Lady Jaye. "Who are you and what are you doing here?" he asked her.

"Well, I could pose those same questions to you," she replied.

"You could, but I'm the one with the gun pointed at you, and I am in no mood for games."

He thought he saw a flash of sympathy on her face, but he received another tart reply. "I really don't think you could just shoot me for no reason." She then pulled out a cigarette and lighted it. "But to answer your question, my name's Kate Hartman, and I'm a reporter. I thought this accident looked suspicious, and I came to check it out. Did you know the victims?"

Flint turned away to look at the car. He then dropped his head and answered, "Yes. The one I knew only briefly, but the other…" _what?_ He wasn't about to pour out his heart to this sassy reporter. "Let's just say I knew her pretty well." He saw that flash of sympathy again, and this time it made him mad. "Look. There's nothing to see here. Just move on and find another grisly car wreck to write about. Let the dead rest in peace." _And the alive to mourn their loss._

She shrugged her shoulders. "Fine. Are you going to put your gun away, or do I have to worry about getting shot in the back on my way up?"

Flint activated the safety, and put the gun back in its holster. He then turned from her and she began to walk back to the car. He didn't notice when she turned to look at him once more, and shook her head. She then began the uphill climb.

Flint tried to continue from where he left off, but couldn't. He felt that the moment was ruined, and he wasn't going to get it back. Sighing, he also realized that opening his heart to her now was too late. He didn't do it when she was alive, so why should he do it now that she was dead. He had always been a coward when it came to her. That thought was hard for him to admit. Most people, after finding out the kind of life he's lead the last fifteen years would think of him as a brave man. But in reality, he wasn't. He honestly wished he had one more chance with her, a chance to make everything right. However, he couldn't. And it didn't matter anyway. He would probably waste it anyway, because a 'real man' doesn't show emotions, doesn't tell the woman he loves with all his being, that he does love her. _I'm just a Goddamn coward._ He touched the car, and repeated his original phrase, "I'm sorry, Alison. I'm truly sorry."

Then, without another look back, he proceeded to his car.


	5. Breakfast Treat

Quick Authors' Note: Starting with this chapter Kurt (Wolfman769) adds his writing talents.

February 24, 2000

The Crimea

Very Early Morning

Zarana didn't know whether to be amused or disgusted. She had been trailing Shipwreck since early yesterday morning. He had ended his day in what looked to be the seediest bar in the Crimea and was working on making an ass of himself. She wished she could just shoot him and get the whole affair over with. However, Cobra Commander had insisted that his death be made to look like an accident. As she continued to watch him, she figured he would probably take care of that himself. He was either going to drink himself into a coma, or find some stupid way to kill himself while intoxicated.

Part of her disgust lay with her fellow Dreadnoks. She had been forced to take Buzzer and Torch on the mission with her. No matter how much she had argued with Zartan that their presence was going to be more of a hindrance than a help, he insisted that she couldn't go alone. To make matters worse, they thought it would be a good idea if they hung out with Shipwreck. So at the moment she was watching Buzzer and Torch match Shipwreck drink for drink. She figured it was going to turn ugly soon, so she was at a table close by to make sure things didn't get out of hand. She was afraid they might blow their cover.

Shipwreck slammed down his glass, "So what do you guys think of the new government?"

"Eh?" one of the locals asked.

Shipwreck smiled and with his two index fingers made a pair of fangs under his mouth as he began to make a hissing sound. "The snakes, in the government."

One of the Australians in the group began to laugh loudly at Shipwreck's impersonation. Shipwreck began laughing too, despite a nagging feeling that he somehow knew the man. He scoffed at the idea. _Why would I know anyone in the Ukraine?_ A couple of the locals joined in the laughter and a third one said, "Snakes, they are bad. They'll bite you in the ass."

The comment got the group laughing even harder. Shipwreck stood up. As he stood there swaying he announced to the group, "Speaking of snakes, I have to go drain mine." He then wobbled to the bathroom, unaware that Torch and Buzzer were following him.

Zarana immediately jumped out of her seat and ran after them. She put one hand on each Dreadnok and said, "Will you gentlemen be dolls and help me with my car out back?"

Buzzer turned to look at her like she lost her mind. "What in the bloody hell?"

She squeezed his shoulder tighter digging her nails into his flesh. In a very annoyed whisper she said, "Shut the hell up, you bloody fool, and come with me outside."

Once outside, and safely away from prying ears, she turned on them. "Just what do you think you were doing?"

"Carrying out our orders. We were going to whack him in the bathroom," Torch replied.

"Idiots! The Commander told us to be subtle. There's nothing subtle about shooting a man in a public bathroom in a bar!"

"But, Zarana!" Torch protested and received a hard slap against the back of his head.

"We're supposed to be undercover, you fool. Don't use my name." She shook her head. "Let's get out of here before you morons do anything else stupid. I know where Shipwreck is staying, we'll wait for him there. He'll meet some unfortunate accident when he comes stumbling home tonight."

Sheremetyevo Government Barracks, outside Moscow

0430 Hours, local time

The shrill ringing of the telephone woke Duke from a deep sleep. He nearly leaped out of his bed rack, before realizing what the sound belonged to. After drawing a breath and allowing the phone to ring once more, he answered it.

"This is Sergeant Hauser," Duke said in a sleepy voice, trying to mask his displeasure at being awakened by the noise. He still had an hour to sleep before his normal "rise and shine" time, and was still getting accustomed to the jet lag from the team's trip over from the States.

"_Starshina_ Hauser, you have been requested to meet with President Putin in one hour regarding a peace summit that the American Ambassador, you and your personnel are being asked to attend." Duke recognized the voice as the same Russian staff member that had annoyingly blown him off the day before. "The summit is to begin at nine o'clock this morning."

Although the notice was very short, Duke began to get a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, and it made him more alert to the functionary's words. "Yes, sir," he said. "I'll be there in one hour to represent my unit. But, why the sudden interest in me and my team?"

"Because Destro is arriving here with President Yelchichev," the staffer reported. "They are aware of your presence, and Destro wants to see you in person." Then the man hung up, without further explanation.

The ringing of the phone had woken Scarlett up as well. She had been sleeping soundly next to her husband in their shared private room and stirred when she heard Duke's hushed conversation. She was only inches away from her husband because the couple had moved the military issue bed racks together to form a makeshift double bed.

"What's going on?" she asked when Duke put the phone down.

"Destro decided to lead a mission to Moscow with Yelchichev, to meet with President Putin," Duke explained as he got out of bed. "Apparently, our esteemed Russian leader suddenly wants G. I. Joe's help. He wants me to meet with him in an hour."

"Do you want me to come?" Scarlett asked, pushing down the bed sheet and thick woven blankets from where they were wrapped around her body, and swinging her legs to the edge of the bed. "You know, to translate for you and keep an eye on his mannerisms and body language?"

Duke had to walk around their bed racks, in order to rifle through his footlocker and dig around in the closet where his neatly pressed Army greens hung. On his way, he wrapped his arms around Scarlett and gave her a soft kiss.

"I'm tempted to bring you along, Shana," he said. "Since diplomacy is obviously not my strong suit. However, there's no reason for both of us to be up at this ungodly hour. Muster Stalker and Snakes for morning chow, and tell them that we need to be ready to head over to the Kremlin before eight. Along the way, we'll set up a contingency plan, in case Destro wants to do more than just talk. If this first meeting with Putin runs long and I don't get back here, we'll meet at the main entrance to the Kremlin instead."

Scarlett took both of Duke's cheeks into her palms and stared at his steely blue eyes in the sparse moonlight that filtered into the barracks room's window. She could read his uncertainty in the azure pools, even though he made every effort not to show that he was out of his league dealing in international issues on his own.

"You just stick to what you know," she said, bringing her lips up to press them against his once more. "We'll back you one thousand percent. All the way, baby."

Duke blinked once, lost in the pools of his wife's knowing gaze. For a moment, he forgot about where he was and what problems the quartet of Joes could be facing. "I know," he whispered softly. "I have to go. See to things here, will you?"

"No problem, Conrad," Scarlett replied, letting go of his face. "I'll take care of it." When Duke focused his attention on gathering some soap and shaving materials, she laid back onto her pillow to get a couple more hours of sleep.

The Kremlin, Moscow

0700 hours, local time

Duke was waiting for the other Joes to arrive, standing outside the old, venerated complex of buildings that housed the seat of Russian political power. The ambient morning temperature was rather frigid, and the chill winds blowing through the city were more than the thinly lined Army Class "A" trench coat that he wore could withstand.

The Master Sergeant didn't really care much about how cold it was, since he just wanted to be out of the building. An inner frustration gave him all the heat that he needed. He was grumbling to himself over the fact that he was summoned at the crack of dawn, just so he could listen to President Putin instruct him to have the Joes shut up and smile during the entire meeting.

Duke replayed the points of the argument that he had made, asserting that the Joes' military support and advisory efforts could be compromised if the "enemy" knew of their presence in Russia, or elsewhere. And he was rebuffed with the statement that international diplomacy sometimes included a show of force, laying out some sort of strategic card on the table for the opposition to take note of. After all, having the Ukrainians know that America was on Putin's side could become an important bargaining chip. It was what the Joes' mission to Moscow was all about.

The net result of the whole exchange was Duke's realization that President Putin was prepared to lay the Joes out on the chopping block, if that was what it took to keep control of his own political position and insulate himself from trouble with the new Ukrainian regime. He would "volunteer" them as targets for Destro, playing them as a potential sacrifice to keep Cobra and the Ukraine from undermining his own fragile situation among the more powerful members of the Politburo, Russia's transitional parliamentary and legislative body. Putin could not afford to have his decisions challenged by some of the powerful, nationalist hardliners or the younger moderates who were steadily occupying more and more of the _Duma_, the newly organized representative body destined to supplant the Politburo.

Duke saw the black sedan that the team was using for nondescript transportation pulling into a driveway in front of the Kremlin, and his three teammates quickly joined him. In order to be less scary to the Russians, Snake Eyes had dispensed with his usual black commando headgear and wore a thin rubber mask, which concealed his permanent facial scars. Stalker and Scarlett wore their Class A uniforms, anticipating that they might have to be in the meeting room with Duke.

"So, Duke, the powers-that-be finally decided that we were useful?" Stalker asked, shaking his teammate's hand with a cold shiver.

"No," Duke replied. "We're just here as pawns, as usual. President Putin wants us to…"

He stopped when he noticed a dour look on Scarlett's face. "Shana… honey… what's wrong?"

Scarlett sighed deeply. She was trying to hold back her tears and looked like she was on the verge of breaking down, in spite of her tough, professional bearing. "Right before we left, I got a phone call from Dial-Tone," she said. "I wanted to wait until we were all together before… before I told you guys…"

Scarlett paused for a moment to shiver in the morning cold, before she got up the nerve to say what was bothering her. Duke, Stalker and Snake Eyes looked at her with questioning expressions. "Lady Jaye was killed in a car wreck two nights ago."

No one spoke, as Scarlett's words sunk in. Duke couldn't believe his ears. Lady Jaye… was dead? He had been joking with her not a week before, while preparing for the trip to Moscow, and now she was gone? After all the close calls with Cobra they had over the years it was ironic; it felt like a waste for her to die in a simple automobile accident.

He wondered how Flint would take the news. Even if the formerly romantic couple had been somewhat estranged of late, Duke was sure that Flint would still take the revelation pretty hard, especially if he was unable to get to her, because of the job at hand.

Duke's thoughts then drifted to how the news affected their mission in Eastern Europe. Lady Jaye had basically been the key to the mission's success, since all of the Joes were counting on her to provide the detailed inside information about Cobra's conspiracy in the Ukraine.

Even without knowing the details, his tactical mind instantly suspected foul play, and wondered whether the Joes' covert team in-theater had already been compromised and in danger of being captured or killed.

Unfortunately, there were bigger issues at hand than the death of a teammate. Thoughts of the other Joes working in Eastern Europe had to sit by the wayside. Duke knew they could all handle themselves admirably; that was why Hawk formed the units the way he did. He needed to put all the distractions out of his mind, to concentrate on the fast-approaching summit.

"I know that this is horrible news for all of us," Duke said. "However, we need to put the mission first right now, and focus on this summit meeting. I feel as bad as all of you, and don't want to seem cold about this, but we have our own jobs to do."

Duke wanted to outstretch his arms and take Shana into them, to comfort her obvious sadness. Had they been in a more private setting, he might have done just that. But Scarlett's eyes told him that she agreed and understood that the mission came first, if they were all going to get back home alive.

"Scarlett," Duke continued. "You and Stalker will come with me to sit in on the meetings with Yelchichev and Destro. Even if we're on short leashes, I still want our presence to appear strong. We also need to be ready to extract Ambassador Michaels if he is sitting in at the summit and shit starts rolling downhill."

Duke turned for a moment to face Snake Eyes. The silent, black-garbed commando gazed back at his team leader with the cold stare of an angry killer. "Snakes, do you think you could find a good hiding place where you can keep an eye on us?" Duke asked. "I don't think Destro would be stupid enough to try to shoot us or go after President Putin during this, but I want my bases covered."

Snake Eyes nodded his understanding and departed to figure out a walking pattern around the building, counting windows, doors and balconies, along with possible exit routes. He would later scout the inside with his teammates, when their security measures briefing was expected to begin. The other Joes, lost in their own individual thoughts over Lady Jaye, silently followed Duke inside to check into the building.

Outside British Embassy, Kiev

0730 Hours, local time

"So, love, are you ready to meet your fans?" Brant asked his wife as they sat in their car in the parking lot of the embassy.

Samantha smirked. "I think so. However the question is, are they ready to meet me?"

"You'll be fine. But, remember, if things get too hairy, you could always go back."

"Trust me, dear, I can take care of myself." She replied. She then ended the discussion by getting out of the car.

It took Brant a few minutes to get out of the car, unable to control the desire to take a look at his wife's ass. By the time he did get out of the car she was at the front entrance, being greeted by both the British and American ambassadors.

Edwin Wainright, the American ambassador, was grinning wildly as he shook Samantha's hand. "Just who is this amazing creature that has seemingly left your car like Aphrodite rising from the water?"

Both Brant and Samantha rolled their eyes. He had warned her that Wainright was the typical ambassador, more bullshit than substance, but she had no idea the extent he would go to ingratiate himself upon somebody. Before Brant could answer Samantha did it for him. "I'm Samantha. Brant's wife"

Stephen Cornell, the British Ambassador, retrieved Samantha's hand from Wainright's hand. "I have to admit, I didn't think you were coming. With all this drama going on I thought you would stay home where it's nice and safe."

"And miss out on the opportunity to see Brant? We planned this for too long to let a little thing like Cobra ruin our time together."

As Samantha talked Brant came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her. "Now honey, I wouldn't call Cobra running this country a 'little thing'."

Samantha turned around and gave Brant a light kiss on the lips. "Well, that's the difference between you and I. I don't let snakes dictate my life."

"Don't let Brant sway you with his tale of gloom and doom. It's his job to talk like that," Wainright said. "Let's talk about something much better. I had popped over to extend an invitation for all of you to attend a little cocktail gathering I'm hosting for Cobra Commander. I expect nothing less than your acceptance, especially you Mrs. Rodgers. Mavis, my wife, will want to meet you."

"Well, I wouldn't want to disappoint Mavis. I'm sure we can make an appearance."

"Great. The festivities start at five this afternoon." Wainright smiled at the three of them and then started to walk back to the American embassy.

Cornell shook his head as Wainright left and then turned his attention back to Samantha. "That man is amazing. Anyway, it's a pleasure to meet you." He then switched his attention to Brant. "After you're done showing her around we need to discuss security arrangements. Wainright may think Cobra Commander is worthy of cocktails, but I refuse to make the same mistake our ancestors made with a certain gentleman from Germany over fifty years ago. I want to make sure our embassy and personnel are safe."

Brant nodded. "Yes sir." Cornell walked back into the embassy, leaving Brant and Samantha alone. "Damn yanks and their parties. I'm amazed they get anything done considering the amount of time they spend drinking."

The Pentagon, Washington DC 

23:30 hours (07:30 hours, Moscow local time)

"He said WHAT?" Hawk bellowed, slamming his fist on the desk in front of him. "Duke, you have got to be fucking kidding me."

"No joke, sir," Duke said from the other end of the secured satellite connection. "President Putin was contacted by telephone from the capital in Kiev. People from Cobra, the Ukrainian government, or both, are asking to meet with him concerning their neighborly relations." Duke was agitated at the news as well, but certainly calmer than Hawk. Maybe it was the time difference.

"Does the Ukraine have an embassy in Moscow?" Hawk asked, his temper subsiding as he nursed a cup of coffee.

"Well, they did," Duke reported. "But with the new regime, a decision was made to recall the chiefs of mission, attaches and ambassadors from all Ukrainian legations worldwide. The presumption was to prepare them for the anticipated need to explain the 'partnership' with Cobra. In Moscow, the top dog was a fellow named Kudusov. Right now, they only have a handful of caretaker staff and no one who can serve a diplomatic function."

"Shit." Hawk mumbled under his breath. The changes were taking place more rapidly than the daily CIA intelligence briefings he read were estimating. Even though he had no reason to suspect the sources of the briefing data, Cobra might have taken steps to accelerate the process of putting pressure on Russia, since they were still the biggest dog on the proverbial block. He made a mental note to see if Mainframe could get around the usual chain of command and cop some raw information from the DIA or NSA.

The general spoke in a more controlled tone to his most trusted non-commissioned subordinate. He also dismissed Mainframe with a wave; the computer technician had come running when he heard the initial commotion. They were both tired from working late. "Has President Putin said yes?"

"Sir," Duke began. "I tried to dissuade our friend Vladimir from accepting a summit meeting, let alone allowing someone other than Kudusov into any sort of consular talks. At least we knew Kudusov was pre-election and fairly honest. If he is not the one chosen to conduct the summit for Ukraine, whoever they send to assist Destro could be trouble…"

"… In more ways than one, Duke," Hawk said, finishing the statement.

If Hawk knew Cobra and how they operated, someone on the diplomatic team could even be an assassin, instructed to remove Putin during the talks. The resulting destabilization and surprise could bring a large nation such as Russia to a literal political and military standstill, as the bureaucracy figured things out. The military guarding the border would certainly be affected by the inability of their higher command to decide on and issue proper orders.

"The problem is," Duke added, "Putin's assistant called me at oh-dog-thirty this morning and told me to show my face in Vladimir's office about the details of the summit. The Ukrainian delegation is arriving into Moscow International Airport at nine this morning and coming right to the Kremlin. I wasn't sure whether I believed it when I heard."

"Duke, were you avoiding my question for a reason?" Hawk asked offhandedly.

"No, sir," Duke replied. "I'm just thinking out loud. I was never really that good at following international politics, but I am getting a crash course from Scarlett and some locals with the FSB's Second Chief Directorate. Those were the KGB guys that monitored internal activity. To answer your question, he did agree well before we even knew; it is down to the matter of Destro showing his silver puss here at the Presidential Complex, and what he has to say when he's here."

"Anything about the play that seems unusual?" Hawk asked.

"I wouldn't know what would classify," Duke said truthfully, "it all struck me as odd. General, all I know is that Putin's chief assistant said that our team should not be in the room other than myself. I sort of agreed with that; we don't want Destro to know which of us are in country unless the President decides to tell them. Cobra knows a lot about all of us, you know. But so far, the arrangements look like plain vanilla diplomatic shit, despite being on such a fast timetable."

"I would even stay out of the room if I could. Snakes, Scarlett and Stalker are being allowed to observe through the security cameras in the room, in case they catch something suspicious going on. Putin wanted everyone to be present, but I convinced him that I would be enough. I didn't want to put all of our eggs in one basket for Destro."

"Hold on a second," Hawk said. "Putin wanted the whole team there, but his assistant was telling you something else? That sounds odd in and of itself."

"Yes," Duke agreed, "but I saw the logic in the assistant's idea more than Putin's. The assistant may be a slippery little weasel, and a condescending cuss, but he's going to be in the room during Destro's visit. I can keep my eye on him."

Hawk nodded as his mind absorbed the report, even though Duke couldn't see his face. "Okay, Duke," Hawk said after a heartbeat. "I am sure you have enough on your mind. I want either you or Scarlett to draft me a report on the situation. Add to it any details during the summit you can pick up, and e-mail it securely to Washington ASAP once it's ready. I'll ask around here to see if anyone can give us a take on it, and I'll relay back to you. Good work, troop."

"Thanks, sir," Duke said quietly. Rubbing his chin and glancing with only his eyes back and forth at his solemn teammates, the veteran top kick hoped that his work was going to be _good enough_.

"You don't sound like your usual self, Duke," General Hawk said, picking up on a subtle change in the normally confident top sergeant's voice, like it had wavered just a bit from something else on his mind. "What else is going on?"

"Um - well -" Duke hesitated. "I don't know if you've heard yet. Dial-Tone called us on the secure line while I was meeting with President Putin." He gulped slowly. "He told Scarlett that Lady Jaye is dead."

"I think Dial-Tone called us, just in case Cobra compromised the rest of the team," Duke added. "Apparently, she died in a car wreck with one of the CIA's local assets. If you ask me, it smells bad - like foul play."

"I received Dial-Tone's report already, Duke," Hawk said, "and I suspect some sort of shenanigans are afoot too. But it's too early to tell."

"What do we do if the undercover team is compromised?" Duke asked. "Is there an exit strategy? Are we expected to drop everything and go in after them?"

"No, Duke," Hawk said. "For now, your team must keep doing what you're doing. Cobra needs to know that Russia and the United States will not allow their influence to spread beyond Kiev. Not without a fight. What happens to Flint, Dial-Tone and Shipwreck is the CIA's ball game now."

"Sir, with all due respect, that's bullshit!" Duke's cheeks began to turn red with anger, his outburst drawing the attention of his teammates. "Joes never leave their own behind! We can extract the rest of them right now, and truck out overland to a safe haven!"

General Hawk wasn't shocked at Duke's reaction. He tried to control his voice, but there was a little quake in it. He wished he could cut Duke loose and let him unleash the Joe quartet's fury on Cobra.

"You know that they knew the risks, Duke," Hawk said. "None of us can change what happened, but we must stand up and continue the fight. Just keep your eyes focused on the tasks at hand. Whatever happens in the next few days… we'll find a way to avenge her. All of us."

"I understand, sir," Duke replied sullenly, "we can handle our part. We have to go now."

"Go, son," Hawk whispered. "And keep your chin up. Don't let Cobra think they've won by taking out one of ours."

"Yes, sir," Duke acknowledged, breaking the satellite telephone connection with Washington.

Hawk hung up the phone in his office, shaking his head sadly. A fire began to burn in his belly, as the general swore to himself that he would bring the war to Cobra, whatever it took.

He suspected what Duke and the others did. Either the CIA was playing games, or Cobra had gotten to the team. _Jaye wouldn't have slipped up. She was too good. No one was going to kill HIS Joes, and get away with it!_

Washington DC

0100 Hours

By the fifteenth ring Jason Remington had no choice but to acknowledge the existence of the phone and its desire to be answered. For the first five rings he was still groggy and chalked the ringing up to his imagination. The five after that he ignored the phone in hopes that whoever was calling was either a heavy breather or just a wrong number. The final five rings had him sitting up on the couch, staring at the phone in hopes that it wasn't the late night call he always dreaded getting. Just as the sixteenth ring was starting he finally picked up the receiver. "What?"

"Damn, Remington, starting to sound just like your girlfriend."

He let out a sigh of relief. While he wasn't thrilled at having Bellows' personal assistant waking him up he could relax knowing that it wasn't something worse. "I was having a rather nice dream about the aforementioned girlfriend before you woke me up, Jeffries."

"Any images worthy of the Spice channel that you care to share with me?"

"Unless you get to the point in fifteen seconds I'm hanging up on you." It was times like these that Jason wished there was an answering machine in the office.

"Sorry, Bellows, wants you to meet him and General Hawk at the White House ASAP. Putin has apparently agreed to meet with Destro and everyone's getting dragged in to assess this latest development."

"What is this? Faster, faster, Panda wants some bamboo?" Jason flipped the table light on, already assessing where he tossed his jacket and shoes a couple of hours earlier.

Jeffries sighed and then spoke in a monotone, placating voice. He knew the drill."We could get someone else, but you're the only one in town and you know your stuff. You've always produced good work. Bellows has always held you in the highest regard and General Hawk is impressed with your work."

Jason grinned as he listened to Jeffries placating his ego. Not that he would or could actually turn down a personal request from Bellows, but he liked making Jeffries work for it. "Fine. I'll be there. Give me fifteen minutes." Before Jeffries could respond Jason hung up the phone.

Moscow, The Kremlin

09:00 hours, local time

Duke glowered while he stood outside the large conference room that had been set aside as an audience chamber for President Putin's meeting with Destro and his delegation. Officials and stewards in civilian clothes scurried in and out, setting out chairs and arranging the space for the arriving guests.

A quartet of stone-faced Interior Ministry security men stood stiffly at parade rest in the hallway, their eyes moving carefully to and fro as they observed the goings-on. The paramilitary guards were clutching AK-47 rifles with a visible, white-knuckled nervousness. Apparently, Destro's reputation preceded him in some circles.

Duke was musing about the sharpness of the guards that flanked him when the men snapped sharply to attention, their polished leather jackboots clicking on the shiny, refined stone floors in unison. President Putin walked past the conference room with some assistants, and Duke stepped out into the center of the hallway to attempt to halt the Russian, in order to make his latest entreaty for caution.

"Mister President," Duke said in a forceful tone, stopping the conversation between the president and his advisors as they halted before the blond American. "You MUST NOT go through with this without giving us a chance to screen the people Destro is coming here with! Not only is this a security risk, but we are literally letting the wolf into the flock of sheep!"

Duke hoped that the reference would strike a chord in Putin, who knew his childhood fables well.

An annoyed look crossed the president's face as he regarded the G.I. Joe sergeant. "And what am I to do, _Starshina_ Hauser? Send them away? That is very undiplomatic."

"You should have given me some warning!" Duke argued. "I know Destro. He is certainly not trustworthy, even if he has no plans to directly attempt something here. He always has a hidden agenda."

"He is their chosen representative," Putin said, dismissing his advisors for a moment with a wave of his hand and a brief spoken order in Russian. "… And I think the ambassador from their embassy is coming too. I am required by international convention to extend Destro and his contingent the customary diplomatic respect, like I would to your Ambassador Michaels. Does the United States treat my diplomats with equal contempt or disrespect?"

Duke rubbed his chin unconsciously in thought. "Certainly not, Mister President," he said, "and I guess I have to concede your point. But please, sir, take my advice. Don't believe everything he tells you."

Duke didn't add that he would've preferred to have Ambassador Michaels in the room with Putin and Destro, rather than himself.

"_Starshina_ Hauser," Putin warned softly. "I shall keep my own counsel as to what I am to believe. Please do not force your American sensibilities upon me. I am still the chief of state and leader of the Russian people. And you are simply an Army soldier, and a guest of my government. I understand your candor and dedication to your mission. But, who is more qualified to conduct statecraft between us? I think you know that answer."

"_Da, Tovarisch_ President," Duke said, using the old "Communist" form of address to subtly make his displeasure known without Putin thinking him insolent. "I shall just sit here and look pretty." Duke spoke with a hint of disgust in his voice, doubting seriously whether Putin would understand his sarcastic jab.

President Putin didn't seem to care about Duke's concerns in any way. The man simply shook his head and summoned his advisors while walking towards his office. He only began speaking again, in Russian, after he had left Duke behind.

The Crimea

0900 Hours, local time 

Zarana thought she was mad last night. That was nothing compared to the rage she was feeling now. She spent the whole night waiting for Shipwreck to return to the cheap motel he had booked the day before. He never showed and she was forced to spend the night in the dilapidated car, listening to the snores of Torch and Buzzer in the back seat. After looking at her watch she decided that Shipwreck wasn't coming to the motel. She turned around and looked in disgust to the two poor excuse for humans. Torch had a large amount of drool sliding down his cheek, and they both reeked horribly. She picked up her purse and with an expert swing knocked them both in the head, waking them instantly.

"Wha..." Buzzer said as he sat up with a jolt. "Is he here?"

"No, and he's obviously not coming. Do you think you two low-lifes could go back to the bar and ask around for him? We need to find out where he is now."

"Sure thing, Zarana," Torch replied.

Zarana just shook her head again as she drove off.

Washington DC

0200 Hours

The outer office to the Oval office was full of the President's top advisors, waiting for him to arrive. As Bellows and Jason walked in Bellows spoke, "Giving Jeffries a hard time again I hear."

Jason said, "Somebody has to while she's gone." Before he continued speaking he looked around to see if anyone was listening. "Speaking of which, any word?"

"Outside of that calling card in the paper she's been silent. I do expect to get an update from her sometime tomorrow."

Jason nodded in gratitude for the update and Bellows gave him a reassuring pat on the back. Before either could begin to speak an aide opened the door to the Oval and signaled them to enter. The President began to speak as everyone situated themselves in the office. "First off, I think I speak for everyone in this room when I offer my condolences on the death of your agent, General. As an offshoot of that I need to ask how this affects your plans?"

"Thank you, sir," Hawk said, nodding as he did so. "We're still going ahead with the plan in regards to creating a resistance movement in Kiev and the neighboring cities. Gorman has graciously offered to try and get some information on the government level. It won't be the same that Lady Jaye might have gotten for us, but it looks like he has the contacts to get us something."

Both Jason and Bellows gave questioning looks to one another as Bellows made a note. While it was nice of Gorman to help out, both knew how vociferous he had been in his objections to Hawk's plan initially. The sudden change in attitude had them both on edge.

The President responded to Hawk. "That's good to hear, general. As you all are aware of by now Destro will be meeting with Putin as we speak. While on the surface this looks like a normal meeting between heads of state we all know better. I need to know how to look at this and what our options are."

Secretary of Defense Williams asked, "Is there anyway to connect this visit and the death of our agent in the Ukraine? Cobra's way of saying that they've got our number?"

"I don't think so," answered Hawk. "While her death is tragic there's nothing to indicate foul play was involved. None of the local papers actually identified who was in the car, but I'm sure Cobra knows. They knew we're after them, but exploiting her death right now would tip their hands."

Henderson was the next person to speak. "Communications traffic has definitely picked up but that's to be expected in a situation like this. Nothing out of the ordinary has come up in any of the items we've analyzed so far. There might be something nasty in the woodshed, but I'll be damned if I can find it."

All eyes turned towards Bellows and he nudged Jason to speak. He jumped slightly and began to organize his papers when he realized everyone was waiting on him. "Sorry…um…as far as we can tell this is as much a power play on Putin's part as it is Cobra's. As much as he wants to convince everyone he's the reformer our sources say he's probably better suited for communist totalitarianism than democracy. Allying himself with Cobra could give him the foundations he needs to crack down on his own problems. The Chechans are embarrassing his military and adding Cobra's men and equipment would change that state of affairs.

"They need each other. Putin meeting with Destro basically legitimizes them in the eyes of the other former Soviet states. He's basically opening the doors of goodwill for Cobra in that entire region. Cobra could give Putin what he needs to make Russia a major world power again. A military alliance could lead to a return of the Soviet bloc.

"Putin's the real wild card in all of this. He needs to solidify his own power base in time for the upcoming elections. He's basically popped out of nowhere to be acting head of a major nation. No one knows what kind of man he really is. As I said earlier, he wants to play the reformer but his KGB past and apparent willingness to do everything to crush Chechnya doesn't bode well."

"Then what are our options?" asked the President.

Jason continued to speak. "Right now we just sit, wait, and hope Hawk's people do their job. As long as Cobra is playing nice we won't be able to get the surrounding nations to let us use them as staging grounds for attacks let alone get a coalition of nations to pony up armies. They're still kind of touchy over our NATO bombing of the former Yugoslavia last year and will probably see any unwarranted attacks on our part in the same vein. All our previous dealings with Cobra have shown that the Commander suffers from a severe case of hubris. He'll get cocky somewhere down the line and make a move that we can play into our hands. We should definitely step up the pressure, painting him as the madman that he is to any form of media that will listen to us. Those countries may hate us, but they hate the idea of returning to any sort of dictatorship more and we need to work that to our advantage."

The President nodded in Jason's direction. "Thank you. That's probably the most informed opinion that I've heard from any Agency member's mouth in months. No offense Andy."

Jason sheepishly grinned as Bellows spoke. "No offense taken, sir. I know we've been dropping the ball lately, but hopefully this will end with a renewed confidence in my people."

"So do I. Anyway, I hate to cut this short, but I need to call Prime Minister Blair and work on getting him to support us. Thank you for your insight gentleman."


	6. Drinks, Anyone?

**Chapter 6  
Drinks, Anyone?**

**February 24, 2000 **

**Moscow, The Kremlin  
10:15 hours, local time**

Destro strode through the halls of the Presidential Complex, the building attached to the original Kremlin which housed not only Vladimir Putin's functional offices, but also those of the key senior ministers of the Politburo. He was right behind a Russian Army Major, who was conveying his party to the President's prepared conference room, where they were holding the summit meeting.

The arms dealer and sometime Cobra major-domo had in tow a pair of Viper bodyguards, dressed smartly in Ukrainian Army uniforms but carrying their trademark combat gear and Viper-issue assault rifles, essentially an AK-74 and BG-1 grenade launcher combination with some cosmetic modifications.

Ambassador Kudusov also walked with the Vipers, along with a translator (a Tele-Viper linguist) and a female administrative assistant. While the heavily armed escort drew some suspicious glances from the sprinkling of MVD security troops, their standing orders (against Duke's recommendation) were to allow the small bodyguard to pass unchallenged.

The double doors to the Presidential conference room, flanked by _Spetsnaz_ commandos who had relieved the Interior Ministry guards, were opened by the Russian Major. The staff officer announced the arrival of Destro and party in a very official manner.

President Putin, with Duke to one side and Arkady Ivanovich Yurievich, Putin's personal assistant, to the other side, stood to greet the delegation. The other occupants of the room, a Russian Army translator and two pool secretaries selected to take notes, also stood with respect.

"Greetings, Mister President," Destro began, extending his hand across the table to shake Putin's, and then sweeping it around to gesture at Kudusov. "I am James McCullen Destro, the twenty-seventh, but Destro will do for short. This is the chief of mission assigned to the Ukrainian embassy in Moscow, Ambassador Valentin Kudusov."

Destro paused before continuing. "I wish to convey the Ukrainian government's hopes that this meeting will lead to understanding and détente between our nations, despite what you may have heard about the transition of power in Kiev. I regret that President Yelchichev could not attend this meeting as he had hoped during your previous conversations with the capital. I'm afraid domestic matters are demanding his full attention right now. We respectfully ask that you renew Ambassador Kudusov's credentials as the voice of the Ukrainian people and government."

President Putin spoke. "I give sincere greetings from the Russian people to you, Destro. I know Mister Kudusov well, and will gladly renew his credentials as your ambassador."

The president nodded slightly in Kudusov's direction, which was returned in an equally aloof manner. "Please sit," Putin said. He motioned to the plush chairs arranged facing his own and sat down to study Destro's shiny steel mask while the rest of the delegation found their places.

Destro and his party took their seats, with the arms dealer directly facing the Russian President across the breadth of their meeting table. "I never believed the rumors about you until now. Why do you wear that mask?"

"It is a tradition among the heads of my family over the years," Destro replied. "The story is quite complicated to explain."

President Putin motioned to a naval Cook's Assistant, who had appeared at the doors with a tray. "Please let me offer you some vodka or tea. It is a local tradition among us to drink together prior to conducting business."

_Some people drink more than others …_ Duke mused with an inward smile. _No wonder this place ran so backward all those years…_

"I am partial to tea myself," Destro answered, waving away a vodka glass but allowing the steward to pour him a glass of black, Russian tea. "Thank you, Mister President. I am honored to drink with you to a successful meeting."

President Putin selected a small glass of pepper vodka, for him just a temporary taste. Like many Russians of hardy peasant stock, the man practically grew up on the alcoholic beverage. "To a successful meeting, then," the Russian said.

Both ranking leaders took a swig together, before everyone else with a glass joined in. Duke observed without expression. It was too surreal for the career infantryman to stomach. He had curtly refused to be served anything to drink.

Destro continued after setting his ornate tea glass down on the conference table. "As you know, Mister President," the international arms dealer said. "The people of the Ukraine have freely elected Olexander Yelchichev as the head of state. While that alone would seem a normal affair, he has allied his nation with Cobra, in the effort to solidify his nation economically and militarily, a feat that the administration under his predecessor was unable to accomplish. Cobra has dedicated itself to aiding President Yelchichev in making the venture bear fruit.

"My mission is twofold. Firstly, I am here quite simply on a fact-finding mission. I wish to evaluate what kinds of cross-border initiatives we can share in order to mutually benefit both governments going forward. Secondly, I wish to present our association and intentions to you, and to make you and the Russian people the assurance that your national integrity is not being threatened.

"Cobra, as an organization," Destro added, cocking his head in Duke's direction. "Well, it has had quite a colorful past, as Duke, your American visitor over there, would surely attest to."

Destro's acknowledgment of Duke's presence drew a nasty glare from the G. I. Joe top kick. Yet, Destro was unfazed. "But times change, and so all organizations must change to adapt to the new ways of things."

Duke shook his head in disbelief, but kept his mouth shut as the Viper bodyguards traded sarcastic snickers.

President Putin responded in an even tone. "I welcome your honesty, Destro. I am sure we can discuss many initiatives that could benefit both our nations, as you say."

Destro nodded slightly, the corners of his lips turning to a bemused smile over the fact that his approach was working. "You may not be aware," he continued, "that I am the chief executive of a firm called MARS, the Military Armaments Research Syndicate. My organization is a purveyor of high-technology armaments and military hardware.

"The Americans would have you believe that MARS is a group of simple, gun running criminals; but in fact, we are steeped in history, having provided arms to kings and countries for hundreds of years. Weapons are my traditional family business; always have been, and always shall be.

"Cobra's alliance and internal associations with the Ukrainian government have made available to me numerous industrial facilities. Many of them were constructed in the days of the Soviet Union, as you well know, for the purposes of providing the means to ensure national security. If we could normalize relations, part of the deal could include preferential treatment over all other nations in regards to contracts for armaments, tanks, or ships. You could have your pick of anything the Ukrainian heavy industrial base can produce."

President Putin understood the Ukrainian industrial base well, as it had been one of the largest concentrations of military building capability in the old USSR. During his time as a member of the Supreme Soviet and Politburo governing bodies, he was part of the political mechanism that fed billions of rubles' worth of investment into the Ukraine to keep the masses of Soviet weapons flowing out.

The breakup of the old Soviet Union gave the Ukraine one of the Iron Curtain's finest shipyards, designed during the Cold War. It had been used to construct the nuclear aircraft carrier _Tbilisi_, among other strategically useful projects.

Aircraft production facilities, including large infrastructures owned by the Ilyushin and Mikoyan-Gurevich (MiG) design bureaus, were entirely in the Ukraine. Those facilities had been used for the latest generation of high-performance combat aircraft and airlift planes serving the Russian Air Force. The major Ukrainian segment of the Sukhoi MAPO was already turning profits on an offering of advanced SU-27 series Flanker fighters to Asia.

And that was only the tip of the iceberg. The government of the new Russia had been envying the Ukraine's prime facilities since the breakup, and had been endeavoring to get inexpensive access to them by negotiating with the industrialists that had come to take them over and made them profitable. Putin had been under pressure for some time to conclude a deal to replace the post-breakup cooperation treaty that had expired a day before Yelchichev's installation as the Ukrainian chief of state.

"Aside from my own MARS," Destro continued, "another Cobra supporter is a company called Extensive Enterprises. It specializes in international investment and finances, and makes its services available to us. They often provide consultations on economic growth strategies, and can offer prime terms for industrial or military purchase loans. Again, you shall be the first offered these benefits in exchange for recognition of the new Ukrainian regime, and open relations."

President Putin shifted in his chair and thought some more about the discussion. Destro seemed to be playing all of the right cards for him. Russia was cash-deprived, and needed a lot of things that Destro was offering.

The Russian Federation could trade for hard currency, as the West had quite generously offered in some cases. But Vladimir Putin was a proud Russian. He had a hard time with the thought that he would have to succumb to the inevitably restrictive commerce rules from the West to keep his nation going. He knew, as many Communist hard-liners did, that open trade with the West could pose an awful price, now that Russia no longer loomed over Europe as a superpower.

"Those offers sound legitimate and workable," Putin replied to Destro, trying to keep a poker face.

Diplomats never showed the true extent of their desire, always choosing to downplay their opinion so they did not show greed, need or desperation. It was a sales game. Bluffing and counter-bluffing was the norm, since neither side knew how much information the other had.

Three more hours passed, with Destro and President Putin exchanging ideas and trading general information about Russia's current government, the structure of the Politburo and Presidential Cabinet, trade status, and other aspects of statecraft. During the entire exchange, Duke did as he had been ordered, keeping quiet and containing his outrage and hatred for Destro. His stone-faced silence had to have been something, Duke was sure, that chagrined Destro to no end.

Destro concluded his first round of discussion with, "I thank you for all of your input and ideas, Mister President, and I appreciate all that we have shared with each other concerning the government here. If it pleases you, we could retire for a meal, and then get back in an hour, so that I may explain the relationship between the Ukraine and Cobra. And then I shall take my leave of you, to allow you to consider our proposals and offers."

President Putin's stomach was growling too. "I agree, Destro," he said. "Shall we go to the executive dining hall, here in the complex? The staff cooks are very creative with our native dishes. Perhaps I can interest you in some borscht or smoked ham? The eatery also offers some Western variations, if our food does not yet satisfy your taste."

Destro nodded in agreement, and the group left the meeting room.

Duke stayed behind, trying his very best to keep from throwing up. _I'd prefer a PB&J in Central Park, rather than lunch with these bozos,_ he thought. Then he retired to the security room to spend his lunch break with Scarlett, Snakes and Stalker. At least _they_ were good company.

**The Crimea  
1200 hours, local time**

Shipwreck stretched lazily. He opened one eye and didn't immediately recognize the surroundings. He found that rather alarming and sat up quickly, which caused him to smack his head on the very low ceiling. The pain temporarily cleared his mind, and he remembered crashing at one of the Ukrainian boathouses the night before. He was so drunk he barely made it back here, never mind trying to get across town to the motel he was staying at.

The owner of the boathouse entered the room. "Sleep well?" the man asked.

"I did until I hit my head on the damn ceiling," Shipwreck replied, and hopped off the couch. He looked at the man, and desperately tried to remember his name. Flashes of a dream he had right before waking up interrupted his thought process. It involved, of all people, the Dreadnoks. As he began to sip the coffee that his friend brought him, he began to think about the Dreadnoks. Something was nagging him about it, but he couldn't put his finger on it. He sat at the small kitchen table, and the man joined him.

Anatoly!

Shipwreck finally remembered his name. Now if he could just figure out why the damn Dreadnoks were bugging him. He hadn't seen them in years. Why would he suddenly be dreaming about them? Suddenly, it hit him. The two Australians at the bar with them last night! How could he be so stupid?

He jumped up out of his chair and for the second time banged his head against the ceiling. "Son of a royal bitch!" He began to rub the spot on his head that had now hit the ceiling twice, "I need a phone!"

**Kirovohrod  
12:10 hours, local time**

Dial-Tone was trying his best to remain an impartial observer. However, as Flint continued his tirade he was finding it harder to remain silent. Dial-Tone knew Flint was hurting, but he should not be taking his frustrations out on of the men they had recruited for their impromptu guerilla training session. They were hoping to train enough locals so they would have back-up support when the Joes decided to make their move. Finding the men had proved easy. The night before Flint and Dial-Tone had went around to a couple of the local bars talking up the resistance movement. A surprising number of men had been willing to join them and Flint told them all to come by in the morning for training.

The lack of covertness made Dial-Tone uneasy. He woke up this morning, expecting an ambush, but none came. Instead they were greeted to the sight of nearly two-dozen men standing in their front yard, ready to work. Flint started right away with the training session. It had gone on all morning without a break. Flint had been merciless with the men and already seven had quit. That had only fueled Flint's anger. He was currently shouting at one of the men that had taken quite a bit of abuse all morning. Dial-Tone finally had enough and walked over to him. "Flint, calm down. It's only the first day."

"I don't care, we don't know how much time we have, and I need to know what kind of squad I have here. If he can't handle it, he can leave," Flint barked at Dial-Tone without taking his eyes off of the man in front of him. "Like the other cowards earlier."

"Flint, he's only a civilian. None of these guys had much formal military training, give them a break." Flint wheeled around, and Dial-Tone prepared himself for the onslaught.

However, the ringing of the phone inside stopped Flint. Dial-tone saw his chance to escape and ran inside the house to answer it. He picked up the phone and was met with a very agitated Shipwreck on the other end.

"DT! You are never going to believe who I was hanging out, I mean, ran into last night."

Before Dial-Tone even had a chance to answer the question, Shipwreck hurried on. "Buzzer, and Torch. It took me a minute to recognize them, but they were definitely trailing me. I think Zarana was with them, but I wasn't sure because you know how good she is at disguises. Anyway, they're here, and I know it could only mean trouble so I'm going to try and make myself scarce for the next few days. I just wanted to let you know this development, and to tell you to keep an eye out, because if they know where I am, they must know where you are. Well, gotta go!" With that he hung up.

Dial-Tone stared at the phone blankly. He never had a chance to put one word in. Flint came into the house and barked, "Who was that?"

"Shipwreck. He's got Zarana, Buzzer and Torch on his tail."

"You see, this is exactly why I have to get these assholes into shape," Flint said before returning outside to continue browbeating the Ukrainians. Dial-Tone watched him go, and hesitated a minute before following him outside. _This is going to be a long mission_.

"What the hell is up his butt? Did someone piss in his Wheaties this morning?" one of the Ukrainians asked the man that had suffered Flint's abuse this morning. Flint had returned outside and given them a five-minute rest/lunch break.

"Haven't you heard? His beloved was killed in a car accident a couple of nights ago," the man replied while trying to suppress a grin.

The first man matched his grin and said, "He shouldn't be too upset, he will be joining her shortly. Are we all squared away with Monkeywrench and Thrasher?"

"Yes, they're a go. We set up the diversion for about 9:30 tonight and we'll lead him and Dial-Tone into the trap they have set up. Finally, after all of these years, I can take down Flint." Zartan said with a triumphant smile. He then grinned again at his brother and rose to take more punishment from Flint. _Browbeat me all you want today, asshole, for tonight I will have my revenge._

**Security Monitoring Room  
Moscow, The Kremlin  
1330 hours, local time**

"Hot Damn!" was Stalker's first utterance, when Duke walked into the sprawling security control room. The outburst from the normally reserved Army Ranger had drawn a few glances from the FSB and Spetznaz security specialists that were watching the complex's vast network of surveillance systems.

Scarlett had excused herself about thirty minutes earlier to pay a visit to the Moscow McDonald's, which was mercifully close to the complex. She returned just as Duke was entering, arms loaded down with paper sacks filled with McDonald's food for the team.

"Stalker," Duke said, exasperated. "He was right there, mere feet from me. I had my Beretta, locked and loaded, in my shoulder holster. I could have rid this world of the son-of-a-bitch at any time. God knows I wanted to just stand up and open fire until I had pumped a whole clip into him. But I didn't. Hawk would certainly not approve of me starting an international incident between Russia and the Ukraine, let alone committing murder of a 'diplomat' in a foreign country."

"That's why we're the good guys, Duke," Scarlett said, allowing Snake Eyes to relieve her of some of the McDonald's food sacks.

Stalker's face twisted into a disgusted look. "You mean that bastard is being given the red carpet treatment?"

"Sure enough, buddy," Duke replied. "The way Destro was sweet-talking Mister Vladimir, you'd think his mask wasn't the only thing that was silver. He's trying to legitimize Cobra. And he knows that Russia's bureaucracy has been politically weakened since the breakup of the old USSR. It's a perfect inroad, and it fuckin' sucks that they're taking full advantage of it."

Scarlett chimed in again. "You mean to say President Putin is actually eating Destro's malarchy up?"

Duke turned to face his wife, taking a lunch bag from her hands. "Hook, line and fucking sinker, babe. He needed to kiss ass with America and the rest of the Free World when his own country was going down the shitter. But now that Destro is selling him the cornucopia for a dime, he doesn't seem to need us at all. This guy changes positions like I change my boot socks!"

Scarlett sighed. "Honey, such is the ebb and flow of diplomatic relations. It is nothing that we ground-pounders can explain. Ultimately we end up with the bullshit, and the politicians end up smelling like roses." She kissed Duke on the cheek and tenderly caressed his neck to soothe him. "So long as we keep doing our job here, we can find a way to pull through."

Duke returned her kiss. Stalker and Snakes turned away to give them some semblance of privacy. "We'll do our best, babe. I'm glad you're here to help me with all this stuff."

Stalker interrupted the couple. "Well, Top, it ain't over yet. Better grab a mouthful of these here burgers before Snakes devours them all." Stalker's quip was answered by a jab in the ribs from Snake-Eyes, who flashed Duke a supportive smile of his own.

**Moscow, The Kremlin  
15:30 hours, local time**

The lunch period ended up taking nearly two hours, and the meeting reconvened at precisely three-thirty in the afternoon. After all the participants were seated - including Duke, who had been summoned back from the security control room - Destro began to address the assembly again.

"Mister President," Destro said, returning to his seat. "I thank you for the fine meal your chefs had prepared for us. And now, I would like to provide you some information regarding Cobra's affiliation with the Ukrainian government."

"Mister President, Cobra had quietly supported the ascendancy of President Yelchichev to his current position in the Ukrainian government. It was an agreement made about two years ago. Cobra's leadership had decided to no longer get involved in the purely political, and 'revolutionary' line of activities we were once known to enact."

"Cobra's legitimate businesses, MARS and Extensive Enterprises, play on the world market, but as entities, both corporations have no homeland."

_Well, duh, _Duke hissed in his thoughts. _What freedom-loving nation or people would want your ugly faces around?_

"President Yelchichev was a rising star in the Ukrainian political scene, but his resources were limited," Destro continued. "So, we backed his campaign financially, and in exchange, when he became the President, he not only offered our legitimate businesses a home in which to do business, but he also offered lucrative contracts to provide key infrastructure support."

"We were granted projects that would bring technology in, that the Ukraine had no access to before. Yelchichev also appointed Cobra Commander and myself to be senior members of his Cabinet, in order to draw directly from our expertise and guidance in various trade, finance and military matters."

Duke almost choked. He would have to tell General Hawk how well entrenched in the government Cobra really was. If Cobra Commander was a senior Cabinet minister in title, then he was probably already running the whole country, with Yelchichev as his puppet figurehead.

Cobra Commander and Destro would be quite content with being silent partners in their control of the Ukraine. Not to mention, they could easily back away from the spotlight should Cobra (in the name of the Ukraine) embark on some military adventurism against its immediate neighbors.

But President Putin seemed enamored of Destro. It was like every word that the arms dealer spoke stroked Vladimir's ego even more.

Destro let Putin take a few moments to make orders in Russian to his aides, and then returned to the discourse. "You are a new President yourself, yes? I am sure your military advisors, this fine American included, have raised the alarm that the Ukraine poses a threat not unlike a terrorist nation-state."

Duke glared at Destro again. Although the features of Destro's mask didn't change, a slight but perceptible smile crossed the man's lips. President Putin simply nodded.

"Well, I am here to assure you, Mister President, that neither Cobra nor the freely elected leadership of the Ukraine harbors any intentions of crossing the border into Russia with hostile desires."

"If you wish, while I am visiting with the Embassy staff here, and providing Mister Kudusov with his consular instructions, we could get in front of the people. You and I can go on national television together, and assure the people of Russia and all of Eastern Europe that the Ukraine has merely changed for her own economic growth and stability."

"Your spearheading the press conference would surely bring you attention in the eyes of the other nations. It's quite likely that much of your Politburo, including the hard-liners, will agree that if you keep matters of trade and reconstruction close to home, that you would be doing your people a great service. This is not bad for your political standing, eh?"

President Putin agreed, his mind spinning with thoughts of political prestige, which was something he needed badly, despite being the leader of one of the world's greatest national superpowers over the last fifty-plus years. The reputation of the past was not reflecting well on Russia's future, and it was high time that Putin took the issue in hand. Destro had him fully believing that the Ukraine's course could be the right one after all.

Destro smiled inwardly, secure in the knowledge that he had all the cards to play in the meeting, and that he had G. I. Joe stymied to boot.

**Kiev  
17:00 Hours, local time**

"Remember, love, these things are dreadfully boring affairs. It is nothing but a big get-together to let everyone brownnose in an acceptable arena," Brant said.

"Thanks for the tip, _love_, but I think I can handle myself just fine in there," Samantha replied rather curtly.

"Now, now, is that any way for a loving wife to speak to her husband?" Brant whispered as they walked in the embassy.

Samantha didn't have time to respond because as soon as they were in the reception area, they were swarmed by a group of dignitaries. Brant did his best introducing Samantha to the crowd, but before she could speak to any of them she was swept away by two women.

"Samantha, darling, I was so happy to hear that you came out here after all! This city is so dreadfully boring! Brant told us so much about you! We just have to get together for a round of Bridge!" The older of the two said.

"Yes, that sounds delightful," Samantha replied with mock cheerfulness. She wanted to stay with Brant and meet the other VIP's, not exchange pleasantries with the wives. She tried to scan the room while engaged in the mindless chatter. Brant was right, there seemed to be nothing important going on. In one corner, she saw Albert Gorman surrounded by a group of men. They were all laughing heartily like they didn't have a care in the world.

"Has Brant had time to show you the city?" the younger woman asked forcing Samantha to once again focus on the conversation at hand.

"No, he's been awfully busy," she replied.

"You poor thing. You must be going mad stuck in that dreadful apartment all day long. I'm going to take you on a personally guided tour. We'll do lunch. This city is quite beautiful, although dreadfully cold."

Samantha thought if she heard the word dreadfully one more time she would rip her hair out. Instead she smiled, "That sounds wonderful. It is too kind of you."

The women starting prattling on about the sights of the city, but were soon interrupted by the clinking of glasses. The three turned to look and within moments Cobra Commander entered the room. She watched as a few of the diplomats began vying for a spot next to the Commander.

The older woman leaned over to whisper in Samantha's ear. "Do you really believe all the rumors about him? The mask he wears makes him mysterious, but I can't believe he's responsible for all those terrorist acts that people are claiming."

Samantha could not believe what she just heard. _How fickle the general public can be. He was the most feared man a few years ago and now everyone looks at him in awe_. She was about to debate the point with the woman when Brant rushed over and grabbed her arm. "Come, love, Ambassador Wainwright would like to speak with you again."

The ambassador was refilling his glass at the bar. He turned and saw the Rodgers heading towards him "Brant! Samantha!" He shouted out. "Let me bring you some of these fine refreshments!"

Samantha was aware that almost every eye was now focused on her and Brant. Her cheeks were red which could be mistaken for embarrassment. Instead she was furious. The last thing she wanted to do was call this much attention to her.

Ambassador Wainwright was true to his word and brought them each a glass of white wine. "Drink up my British angel, they have the good stuff out today. I can't imagine this cheap bastard treating you to anything nearly as expensive."

Samantha repressed a laugh as she watched Brant struggle to keep his poise. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Cobra Commander shake the hand of a diplomat and then turn to leave.

Samantha waited a few moments and then turned to Brant. "Dear, I need to use the restrooms. Will you excuse me?"

"Certainly, my love," he replied and gave her a squeeze. "But do hurry back."

Samantha had no idea where the restrooms were, but exited through the same door Cobra Commander used a few minutes earlier. She casually roamed the halls and stopped when she could hear voices around a bend. Using the excuse of adjusting her shoes she crouched down and strained to hear the whispered conversation.

"So you don't suspect foul play? Destro thinks…" Cobra Commander's voice trailed off to a near whisper.

_Foul play? Who is he talking to and what happened?_

A second voice answered the commander, "I am fairly confident it was legitimate. No one…Mrs. Rodgers isn't it?"

Samantha had been too engaged in the eavesdropping to notice that the two had turned the corner and were now directly in front of her. The second voice belonged to Albert Gorman. "Yes, it is. I think my heel is loose," she answered and made a show of rising unsteadily to her feet. "I was trying to find a ladies room, and I got myself hopefully lost."

"It's not a problem, I'll show you where they are." Gorman answered then turned his attention back to Cobra Commander, "It's a terrible tragedy, but these things happen."

"How true," Cobra Commander replied. "Thank you for reassuring me, Mr. Gorman, and I must get back to my office now." He turned and walked the opposite way down the hall.

When he was out of earshot, Samantha turned to Gorman, "Aren't you Brant's counterpart for the American embassy?" Gorman nodded and she continued to speak. "With you talking to Cobra Commander, isn't that like conversing with the enemy?"

Gorman laughed, "Oh, no. At the moment Cobra Commander isn't seen as a threat. He had heard about a fiery crash that happened a few nights ago, and was concerned it might have involved embassy workers. He just wants to make sure his Allies are safe and sound in his country." He pointed to one of the two doors in front of them. "And here are the restrooms."

"Thank you for the escort," she smiled and walked into the room. A few minutes later she went back into the reception area and found Brant.

"I was starting to worry about you!" he said when she joined his side. "We need to be leaving soon, I just found out we have plans tonight. I am taking you to a hockey game."

Samantha was glad to hear the news. Not only could they now leave this horrid affair, but also she might actually have some fun tonight.


	7. I'm Your Huckleberry

**February 24, 2000  
****Sheremetyevo Government Barracks, outside Moscow  
****20:00 hours, local time**

Duke could not stop fuming over the debacle he had witnessed in the conference room of the Presidential Palace. President Putin just took the Americans' advisory role and all of the overtures made to the United States for recognition and increased foreign aid, and stomped them flat to make buddy-buddy with Destro and the Ukraine.

The bureaucracy seemed to be the same everywhere. The people in charge surely _did not, _repeat_, did not_ listen to the people who knew the realities of any given situation.

Scarlett was trying her best to soothe Duke's anger, but he was just too incensed. Her hand brushed gently on his shoulder, but it was shrugged off. Scarlett's face drooped into a pout, as she looked her husband in the eyes.

"I'm sorry, Duke," she said softly. "I know Putin's screwed us and essentially hung us out to dry. But all of Russia hasn't turned against us yet. We can get to other people in the government, or leading members of the political coalitions that vote in the _Duma_."

"But how long will that take?" Duke asked, growling under his breath. "We don't have time to play the Russian equivalent of the "Beltway Two-Step". Lady Jaye is dead! The rest of Flint's team is downrange, in enemy territory! If they've been burned, they might already have bulls eyes on their backs, with no exit plan!

"And," Duke continued, "if conflicting commands are coming from Moscow, the Russian military defenses along the Ukrainian border wouldn't be worth a wad of spit against a concentrated Cobra offensive to secure the rest of the mineral and oil-rich areas of the Southern Crimea. That's only one potential target. We can't cover a couple thousand miles of frontier strip with four Joes! Who knows what else Ol' Rag Face has in mind?"

"I don't know what just the four of us could do, Conrad," Scarlett said. "But we will try."

Duke's satellite phone buzzed to life. A call was coming in from Washington, which he answered halfheartedly. He set the secure unit to speakerphone mode so that the entire team could listen.

"Duke? It's General Hawk." The voice was unmistakable. "How did things go?"

"Sir, it was surreal," Duke reported. "Destro sweet-talked that naïve fucking man better than a Three-card Monte player in Chicago. President Putin is simply an old school sonufabitch. He hasn't progressed at all from his hard-lined, Communist Russian sensibilities.

"Although he's forced to court the US out of pure financial need, when the carrot is dangled in front of him for an Eastern European deal, he'd rather cut us out. His own Minister of Defense and the Intelligence Chief of the FSB told him about Cobra. Hell, I told him about Cobra!"

Duke paused a moment before adding, "Destro basically told Putin to take all of our opinions and shove them up our asses! And I think Putin's the kind of guy to do it. I see us getting expelled from Russia inside of a month, along with a lot of American and European influences. They might even try to seize the hundreds of millions in private and government investments the West has already put into Russia.

"He'll replace us with Cobra, who must have friends in the Russian Mafia by now, and they will topple him from the inside. Can you imagine the old USSR reunited under Cobra? The Cold War would be nothing compared to us squaring off against that!"

"I know," General Hawk said, putting down a CIA intelligence estimate regarding Cobra and the Ukraine. Some of the think tank spooks at CIA and an independent group of conspiracy theorists at Rand Corporation were already writing their doomsday scenarios to scare the military and government brass. "Believe me, Duke, I know."

General Hawk fully understood that the political game in Russia was tenuous, and he thought about which people in the Russian political scene were in a position to help the Joes keep Cobra off track. A lot of influential men could still exert political power in Russia, but not too many had a grasp of significant amounts of it to challenge Putin's powerful nationalist supporters in the new _Duma_.

The new Russian federal infrastructure still had enough in the way of independent division to protect Putin's power base, as the attempted hardliner coup against Mikhail Gorbachev and newly-elected President Boris Yeltsin proved for the previous Russian leader.

Yeltsin's command of his supporters, his ability to plan a resistance, and the support of the Muscovites stopped the would-be Communist revisionists cold, including the sitting Defense Minister and head of the KGB, who led two of the most powerful Russian political organizations. It surely didn't hurt that the coup plotters had no real plan and ended up being inept.

President Putin wouldn't have the ability to unify all of Russia, if he threw in secretly with Cobra. The country would likely fall apart violently as the layers of influence fought one another in a new struggle for political supremacy. It was the right stewpot for Cobra to get their hands into.

"Then spread the word to the people before President Putin and Destro can get up on their little soapbox, Duke," the general said. "The Russian news services and the American ones covering Eastern European affairs can get the word out to all of Europe and Asia. Tell them what you think Cobra is up to. If you can beat them to the story, you can get the ears of people that can check and balance Putin's decision-making, like the Parliament.

"Try to talk to the Minister of Defense, the Minister of Interior, and Gregorievich, head of the FSB. Get them to speak out, if you can. President Putin is not an absolute leader. The Parliament can still be swayed to vote against him if he tries to run with a plan to press détente with Cobra.

"Russian news hounds are very progressive, and good people from Reuters, CNN, UPI, the Associated Press and Sky News are bringing them into the modern day. I'll call the Reuters, CNN, UPI and AP wire services here, and let them know to sic their local news hounds on you for commentary on the summit."

"Okay, sir," Duke said. "We'll do our very best to get the word out."

Duke hung up the phone and sighed. Even Scarlett's tender loving care could not assuage his exasperation. This sort of stuff was for diplomats and big screen movies, not a career non-commissioned officer from humble roots and years of living up to very strong ideals of right and wrong and fair play.

**An apartment in southwestern Moscow  
****20:30 hours**

The CNN news chief in Moscow, Harry Milland, was up late from a coaching session with some rookie TASS field reporters, and did not know that a summit in Moscow had even taken place. Like all of the other news agencies in the Moscow area, and in all the major Russian cities, no one had been advised by the President's spokespeople that anything was going on. Thus, the bureau chiefs were running their usual humdrum stories about domestic issues, and how the government wasn't paying its Armed Forces due to a lack of hard currency.

Milland was about to pack up his laptop computer, after dispatching the approvals for the daily reports and updates from his Moscow bureau correspondents. He wanted to settle in for a night of reading a good book and wanted to hit the bottle of Kentucky bourbon that the Vice-President of the European news division sent over as a good luck gift. That is, until the CNN chief got a call from Atlanta, the cable news company's world headquarters.

The slightly stocky career reporter shifted his frame in the stiff-backed, wooden office chair and reached past the bottle of bourbon to the telephone handset. He sighed for a moment before picking up the connection.

"CNN Moscow Bureau. Harry Milland here," the early-fifties correspondent said.

The voice of an International Desk producer on the other end of the line greeted Milland. "Hi, Harry. It's Mike Procter. We need to talk - right now."

"What's going on, Mike?" Milland asked, pushing his bourbon away and re-opening the lid of his laptop computer.

"Something's gone down in Moscow, completely under the media's collective noses," Mike began. "We've just received a tip from a trusted U.S. government source that a Ukrainian diplomatic mission is in town for a summit meeting with President Putin."

"Holy shit!" Milland exclaimed, stubbing his toe on the thick table leg of his desk as he leaned towards the phone. "Are you sure? We should have heard something about a delegation's arrival! I have correspondents all over the city looking for news!"

"Apparently, they arrived in secret; most likely flew in via the Vnukovo air force base to avoid civilian contact," Mike said. "Perhaps they contacted President Putin through outside channels to arrange the visit. I don't know anything definite over here, but Atlanta wants you to get the scoop right away."

"I'll start asking questions," Milland said, reaching for his Rolodex, ready to fish out numbers for his local media colleagues and some low-level government officers that he had befriended.

"Wait, Harry, there's more," Mike said. "And this part is important. "Our source alleges that the Ukrainian delegation was accompanied by James McCullen Destro."

"Destro? The arms dealer?" Milland said with a gasp. He had profiled the dubious figure and his Scottish manufacturing concern, _MARS_, some years back when stories were flying around his native Los Angeles about the man's involvement in the terrorist group called Cobra. "There's been nothing on the wire about him since nineteen ninety-five."

"I can't answer that," Mike insisted. "But we're going to run a preliminary story domestically. The senior news director is putting the anchors on it, because he thinks this is going to be big. We're trying to get someone in the U.S. government on camera, but I want everything you can find, pronto.

"There's an American military advisory team, based at the Sheremetyevo Government Barracks. Our contact told us that they would have a prepared statement and comments regarding the summit, since they were present in the presidential complex when it happened. Take everyone you can drum up and get them over there. Post feeds to all the other Russian metropolitan agencies before Reuters, AP or Sky News gets the drop on you."

The Moscow-based news chief was stunned and confused. _Shouldn't they be contacting the Presidential Complex's public affairs office for those comments?_

"I don't get it, Mike," Milland said. "Why are we looking for American soldiers? Shouldn't we get in touch with the Kremlin's office of media affairs? Or even President Putin's staffers and public information director?"

"Harry, we don't know if you'll get any story from the usual sources at the top," Mike said. "You know as well as anyone that politics is still a very strange game over there. The President's office wanted the summit to be a secret, otherwise they'd have issued a release beforehand. They're likely to stonewall you in order to protect the truth."

"You've covered the White House before, Harry," Mike added. "You know as well as I do, that Moscow doesn't have a "Junk Story Friday", where they throw out the trash, and hide their diplomatic shit in plain sight. This scoop is hot; we have to get the word out, and the American advisors are the top source available. Their honcho, a Master Sergeant Hauser, sat in on the actual meeting; run him through your twenty questions and see what shakes out."

The bureau chief was convinced. News hounds loved a direct eyewitness to a political event. They usually could relate the story in a more vivid and impartial manner than a primary participant, who would spew political rhetoric or a convenient sound bite to suit his or her own agenda, opinion or position.

"I'm on it," Milland said. He opened up his desk drawer and found the keys to his car, an aged and beat-up Komsomolyets that had been passed along by his predecessor. Without hesitating, the Moscow bureau chief spread the word to his contacts and subordinates, snatched up his press pass, and raced in his locally built sedan the thirty kilometers between his apartment and the Sheremetyevo Barracks.

**Crimea  
19:00 hours, local time**

Shipwreck sat in the bar alone sipping a drink. He was trying to convince himself this was a good idea, but it really wasn't working. He knew, though, that he couldn't dodge Zarana forever. He looked at his watch and was surprised at how late it had gotten. He started to wonder if they were even going to show up when the door opened and the three Dreadnoks walked in. They looked around the empty bar and smiled. _Smug Bastards_. Shipwreck thought while suppressing a smile.

Zarana cocked her head towards Shipwreck and the trio walked over to where he was sitting. Zarana took the seat across from him and shortly after he felt the barrel of a gun press up against his leg. He tried to appear calm, cool and collected. Smiling at Zarana he said, "So is that a gun up against my leg or are you just happy to see me?"

"Shut up. You can do this the hard way or the easy way. I have no qualms with blowing your head off in here. I'm tired of chasing you around this God-forsaken place, so as long as you end up dead in the next few minutes I don't really care how it happens."

Shipwreck grinned, "Zarana, if you're going for my head you do have to aim a tad bit higher. Unless, of course, you had another head in mind."

She pulled the gun away but quickly brought it out in the open, aiming directly for his head. Shipwreck involuntarily squeezed his eyes shut and waited for the gunshot. When none came, he opened his eyes again. Zarana was glaring at him "Get up and slowly walk out of this place," she said through gritted teeth.

Shipwreck shook his head. "I'm afraid I can't do that."

"You can't? And why not?" She asked

Shipwreck nodded to the area behind the trio, "Because I don't think they will let me."

Zarana looked puzzled for a moment and then she slowly turned her head around. A half-dozen Ukrainians were standing behind them with guns drawn. "What the bloody hell?" she asked.

Buzzer and Torch whipped around in their seats. "Oh shit!" Buzzer yelled out.

Zarana turned back around and regained her composure. She once again aimed her gun at Shipwreck. "Tell them to lower their weapons or I'll kill you for sure."

Shipwreck let out a breath. "If you shoot me, Zarana, they won't hesitate to kill the three of you. You'll accomplish your little mission, but you'll be dead. I don't think you're the type to be a martyr for Cobra."

"I'm sure the hell not," Torch replied as he stood up.

"Sit your ass down or I'll shoot you myself!" Zarana shouted, her voice strained. She glared at Shipwreck again. "He's bluffing. These guys won't shoot us." To answer her statement, the Ukrainians simultaneously released their safeties.

"Uh, Zarana, I really don't think they're bluffing," Buzzer replied as he stood up also.

Zarana didn't know what to do. She didn't want to admit defeat. Plus, Cobra Commander had promised a hefty sum if they had succeeded. But Shipwreck was right; she wasn't about to become a martyr for Cobra Commander's cause. She began thinking of ways to weasel the blame away from her. She could always blame the two buffoons sitting next to her. It wasn't that big of a stretch to think they could be responsible for sabotaging a mission. After another few seconds she also rose. "You win this time," She admitted.

"Oh come on, Zarana, you can't come up with anything wittier than that?" Shipwreck asked. "I want you to leave the Crimea. If any of us sees you again here, we will shoot first and ask questions later."

Zarana just nodded and the three of them left the bar. Shipwreck wasn't entirely convinced that they would leave the area so easily, but knowing the cowardice of the Dreadnoks, it still was a good possibility. The Ukrainians walked out of the bar to check on the Dreadnoks, and after a few moments they returned. Shipwreck smiled at them and shouted out, "As promised my friends, the night is on me, so drink up!"

**Kiev  
20:00 hours local time**

Brant and Samantha made their way through the arena looking for their seats. The Dorca Sporta was crowded as Sokol Kiev took on their crosstown rivals. As they made their way closer to the glass towards Sokol's goalie Samantha expresses her amazement. "How did you ever manage to get seats this good? This looks like the sporting event of the season."

"I wish I could take credit for the seats, but unfortunately I can't."

Before Brant could say anything more he felt a tugging on his sleeve. As the tugging on his arm continued he heard in French, "Down in front. Did you miss the notice about not moving while the puck's in play?" Samantha grinned as she realized who bought the tickets. Beth continued to pull Brant towards the seat next to her. He moved over one so Samantha could sit next to Beth.

"I should've known you were behind this. How do you manage to catch hockey while you're working?" Samantha replied back in French.

Beth took a sip of her beer and continued to converse with Samantha in French while keeping her eyes on the game. "Didn't I tell you? It's in my job description: Save the world and still have time to watch hockey." Beth then stood up and banged on the glass as a Sokol defenseman leveled an opposing forward with a vicious hit. As he slowly got to his feet Beth yelled at him in Ukrainian. The player turned around, staring daggers at her. She smiled and pointed at him. "That's right, Konstantinov."

Samantha just stared at her while Brant shook his head. "My Ukrainian is not the best, but did I hear you correctly? Did you ask him what is it like getting beaten like a two ruble whore?"

"Yep," Beth replied in English. "Little puissant has been getting away with shit all this period. About time someone leveled him."

There was stoppage in play as the linesman went to scrape some of Konstantinov's blood off the ice. Brant stood up. "I'll go get us some food if that's okay with you, Ms. Hockey Nazi."

"Enforcing the rules does not make me a Nazi. And get me a beer while you're up there." Brant rolled his eyes, wishing not for the first time that he wasn't subordinate to her. Beth did not fail to notice him muttering and shaking his head as he walked back up to the concourse. Beth reverted back to speaking in French. "Has anyone ever told him that that stiff British upper lip doesn't belong up his ass like a stick?" Samantha giggled again as Beth took another sip of her beer. "So, how did your little trip to the American embassy go?"

"The American ambassador oozes charm at toxic levels. I think I have a cavity just from listening to him compliment everyone in sight. It was sickening to watch him suck up to Cobra Commander.

"For the most part things looked on the up and up. I did spot Cobra Commander and Gorman talking in a side hallway. I could assume that they were having a normal conversation between leader and security head, but I can't be sure. I heard something about papers and embassies before they noticed me and split up. When I asked Gorman about it he told me that he was reassuring Cobra Commander that it hadn't been embassy staff that died in a late night car crash. He chalked it up to Cobra being concerned about the safety of potential allies but I doubt that."

The only acknowledgement that Samantha received was a slight nod of the head by Beth. She was silent for a few moments as Sokol fought off a powerplay. When they cleared the puck from their zone she spoke. "Do you think anyone is on to you?"

Samantha shook her head. "If anyone is they're not showing their cards to me. Speaking of which, how did you square things with Gorman?"

Beth squirmed in her seat and Samantha wasn't sure whether to chalk it up to the question or Sokol's goalie who looked shaky in handling the puck behind his net. "It's nothing to concern yourself with. What was your impression of Gorman?"

"He seems to be alright. Definitely more the pencil pusher than operative type. Quick on the ball though, didn't miss a beat when I asked him about Cobra Commander."

"Nothing wrong with being a pencil pusher. All those pencils would be lonely without people like him to move them around."

"Which is why I'd love to know what you told him. It seemed like he wasn't even looking for me in the crowd."

Before Beth could answer Brant reappeared with some food a beer for Beth. As he handed her the beer she smiled. "Perfect timing."

Samantha noted Beth's body language and knew something was up. Going into adoring wife mode she smiled sweetly at Brant as he handed her some food. Just as he was about to sit back down she said, "Oh, I should've asked for some coffee. It's so cold down here. I hate to ask you, but could you be a sweetheart and get me some?" Brant noticed the look in her eyes and sighed. He got back up and made his way to the concourse. Samantha turned back towards Beth and watched her drain her original cup of beer. She started on the second bottle as Samantha leaned towards her. "What did you say to Gorman?"

Beth pretended to not hear her question as she banged on the glass again. When she sat back down she immediately said, "I think the other Joes might be in trouble. We picked up a transmission from Shipwreck to Dial-Tone warning him that Cobra was on their trail."

Samantha looked concern. "Is there anything we can do for them?"

Beth shook her head and took another swig of beer. "No. They're supposed to be a covert team, so they're on their own." Samantha sat there quietly and Beth could see that she was extremely worried. "You look awfully shaken for someone who supposedly has no emotional attachments to them."

Samantha glared at her, "That's not fair. You know I will always have feelings for him, I mean, them."

Beth smirked, "That's right. You're just not going to act on them."

Samantha decided to end the conversation. "You could stop avoiding my questions and just tell me what you told Gorman."

Beth drained half the glass before she even acknowledged Samantha's presence. She refused to take her eyes off the ice as she said, "You don't want to know."

"What the fuck did you do?"

"I engineered a little car accident, the one that Gorman mentioned to you. Blew a car up, sprinkled it with items that would identify you and Sergei as passengers and stuck it where the Americans were bound to find it. As of right now everyone thinks you're dead."

Samantha stared at Beth, amazed at how nonchalantly she spoke. She broke as she said in English, "You're kidding."

It wasn't a question. It was a fervent wish, one that Beth couldn't fulfill. She closed her eyes and finished her beer. She continued to reply to French to Samantha's English questions. "No. I'm not kidding."

"So everyone thinks I'm dead? How could you do something like that after all we went through with you?"

Beth ignored the second question. "Just everyone in the government and military. The official AP story is that the bodies were burned beyond recognition. As I said I slipped a few items that would survive enough to lead to the conclusion that you were one of the crispy critters."

"My god. What did you use for bodies?" While she wasn't sure about wanting to know the answer she knew she had to ask the question.

"Bodies."

Beth had continued to avoid looking at Samantha during this part of the conversation. Samantha grabbed her chin and forced Beth to look at her. "What…kind…of bodies?"

Beth swatted Samantha's arm away but continued to face her. "Dead ones. I paid off a guy at the local morgue to let me roam around for a few hours. I grabbed two that were unidentified and slated to be buried in a pauper's grave. I took them and stuck them in a car similar to Sergei's car. I doused it liberally in gasoline, lit it, pushed it off a cliff while the flames were just starting, and smoked a cigarette while the thing crashed and turned into a giant fireball. Happy?"

For a few minutes Samantha was speechless. All she could was stare at Beth. Eventually she regained the ability to speak. "What the hell happened to you? What kind of…of…"

"Monster am I?" Beth finished Samantha's thought for her, "Please, as far as some people have been concerned I've been a monster for nearly two decades. Let's just say I'm finally living up to all the hype. Look, this isn't the neat and clean world of GI Joe where everything was on the level. The world's changed and to be perfectly honest saints never join the Agency. Ugly things need to be done on occasion." Beth closed her eyes and turned away from Samantha. " Maybe it was better that you never joined us," she said quietly.

Samantha continued to stare at Beth, unsure whether to feel sorry for the woman she once was or the woman she'd become. "Oh kiddo…"

Before Samantha could finish her sentence Beth turned on her, anger flashing in her eyes and finally spoke in English. "For Christ's sake, I'm not a child anymore! I'm no longer the kid who survived a major car accident with two broken legs and no family to speak of. I grew up a long time ago. If you showed up more than once every four years in my life you'd notice that."

That settled the internal argument for Samantha as her anger at the person Beth became outweighed any pity she might've been feeling. She got up and started to walk out of the arena, ignoring Brant as he came down the steps with a coffee in his hand. He looked between Beth and Samantha, shrugged his shoulders and opted to follow Samantha out. Beth continued to sit there, staring at the game. A few minutes later some of the patrons heard a shatter as the glass bottle in Beth's hand shattered, causing blood to flow from the resulting cuts in hand. "Fuck."

**Sheremetyevo Government Barracks, outside Moscow  
****21:00 hours, local time**

Situated along one edge of the perimeter of Moscow's sprawling Sheremetyevo International Airport, the Government Barracks was little more than a fenced-in cluster of plain, military-like structures. It sat on a series of rolling slopes that were unusable for development of the central airfield or the numerous buildings and hangars that supported the commercial jetliner traffic that passed through the airport.

Originally built by the Interior Ministry to house a battalion of Moscow Militia soldiers for security duties, the barracks had been re-classified as a guest facility for visiting members of military organizations. With the airport's permanently attached company of Interior Ministry policemen in residence, at times the Barracks kept guests in just as well as it kept unwanted visitors out.

The Joe Team's assigned quarters was along the edge of the compound, slightly higher than the ground level and raised on a wooden platform and stilts to account for the uneven grade of the hillock that served as its foundation. Outside the airport perimeter, a parking lot served as the media's staging area, with wary MVD troopers watching the crowd of correspondents assembling as they manned the fence line.

Duke stood on the barracks building's wooden platform, watching the growing activity across the broad boulevard that ran along the airport fence line. The word had spread fast around the international media community in Moscow. About thirty reporters and an equivalent number of cameramen and photographers were scrambling around at the street level, trying to set tripods and portable lights on the sloped ground below the barracks building. Cars trying to pass the assemblage honked and squealed their brakes, as the people quickly took up places on the paved shoulder and spilled out into the boulevard, blocking traffic.

Many of the local correspondents were ready to take the story onto live local television, along with simulcasts to other major Russian cities to feed the information to the metropolitan news outlets. The simulcasting of the press conference around the world and on the Internet was all the better to serve the political purpose of the counter-event.

The Parliament members would just be sitting down to dinner after another long work day in the Kremlin. Many would look to CNN or a major local network for the events of the day, and instead see Duke plastered all over the top stories, proclaiming the occurrence of the secret summit between Destro and President Putin. It would be likely that the Parliament members would become quite incensed that they were not consulted in session to approve the summit, and the Cabinet of Ministers would be equally distrustful of Putin's judgment.

At 21:00 local time, Duke stepped up to the edge of the safety rail that ringed his wooden platform, and cleared his throat. Camera flashes and spotlights from the boulevard bathed him in white light as he prepared to speak.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen of the press," Duke began, taping a hastily typed statement to the safety rail. "My name is Master Sergeant Hauser of the United States Army. I am going to read a brief statement before taking questions."

Duke raised a blown-up file photo of Destro, depicting the arms dealer shaking hands with Cobra Commander. The photo had been in the Joes' computer archives for a long time, taken by a spy who was long dead. Destro's silver mask was circled in red ink.

"This man is James McCullen Destro," Duke told the reporters. "Many of you know him as an international businessman and the head of the Scotland-based Military Armaments Research Corporation, or MARS. He is also recognized on American homeland security watch lists as a major figure in the global terror organization called Cobra.

"At oh-nine-hundred hours this morning, local time, Destro was among the members of a diplomatic delegation from the Ukraine, which arrived to meet personally with President Vladimir Putin. I witnessed the events of their initial summit meeting.

"I am not at liberty to divulge the details of the summit meeting at this time, but it is in the best interests of the Russian people to know exactly who is being allowed into their country. None of the members of President Putin's cabinet, or leading ministers of the _Duma_ were present during the meetings. It is in your best interest to start asking why."

Duke paused for dramatic effect, allowing the correspondents to have a moment to segue with comments of their own, spoken in rapid-fire Russian, French or English. Additional camera flashes went off, as still photographs of the top kick were taken as he stood in his unmarked camouflage utilities.

Duke raised his hand to regain the crowd's attention, catching a supportive smile from Scarlett in the corner of his eye, along with a thumbs-up from Stalker. "Thank you, everyone. I will now take a few moments of questions."

The questioning began immediately, with domestic and foreign reporters taking their turns to ask Duke questions about the content of the meeting, and his opinions about the relationship between the Ukraine and Cobra. He answered all of the questions as a Cobra fighter should. He told the truth.

**Meanwhile, in the Ukrainian Embassy**

A Cobra Tele-Viper, who served as Destro's Russian translator, was also a highly trained Signals Intelligence operator. The SIGINT man was watching the CNN and local news feeds from the Ukrainian Embassy's National Affairs Section, which was Cobra's euphemism around the facility for '_intelligence gathering_'.

Upon seeing Duke's face on most of the television monitors, and hearing the lead questions of the interview, he grabbed the phone to have one of the low-level staffers find Destro. The Tele-Viper knew that his superior wouldn't like the news.

"What is it, Staff Sergeant?" Destro growled. A sleepy complaint from the Baroness came over the line muffled, followed by a giggle as the arms dealer did something to quiet the Cobra intelligence officer.

"Laird Destro, sir," the Tele-Viper said. "We're getting something big on the local news feeds. Russian simulcasts and the international media are getting ready to carry it worldwide. I'm running tape on it, but I strongly suggest you have a look at it personally, sir."

Within two minutes, Destro was also watching the television from the former Ambassador's plush bedroom in the embassy. Annoyed at being beaten to the media punch, but not out of the fight, he called his mole in the Presidential Complex at home and gave him instructions to connect with President Putin.

**_Komissar Dzerzhinsky_ Prospekt, Moscow**

Situated on one of the lesser-traveled ring roads that encircled the central city of Moscow, President Putin's residence, his _dacha_, was a stately looking home that dated back to the Tsarist era. While the bones of the home itself, at the center of the property, were over a hundred years old, much of the estate was thoroughly modern.

A high, cement wall surrounded the entire perimeter of the property, and a standing patrol of handpicked security men was on guard at all times. A number of unmanned protective measures also protected the _dacha_, such as intrusion alarms and motion sensors. Moscow MVD militiamen in police cars frequently stopped outside the _dacha_ on their patrol routes, sometimes followed by military UAZ-469 utility trucks.

President Putin and his immediate family enjoyed the relative isolation of the city _dacha_, and despite the political position and long working hours, they still made time to take their meals together and in private.

Normally, the functionaries in the Kremlin took care of any after-hours business of the President's office, so that Putin wouldn't be disturbed while with his family. So, when the telephone rang in the _dacha_, the family immediately assumed it to be a relative, or bad news coming. The Russian President was eating, listening to music and reclining in a comfortable chair in the dining room of his _dacha_ when the call came.

"What the hell is going on?" Putin bellowed into the telephone when his personal assistant handed it to him. "I am trying to have dinner!"

President Putin's secretary, who passed along the cordless phone, simply said that the call was urgent, and from the Presidential Complex. So Putin took the phone and listened to the aide at the other end of the line. The aide was excitedly relating the events of the press conference taking place at Sheremetyevo.

Putin had to shout more and more into the telephone to get a word in edgewise, finally slowing the government aide down enough to get the story straight.

"Who got interviewed on the television? _Starshina_ Hauser? What is he saying? Put Mister Yankov on the telephone, _right now_!"

Putin waited for a moment, while the lower-ranked aide's voice was replaced by Gregor Klimovich Yankov, the President's chief of staff, who worked even longer hours in the Kremlin and Presidential Complex than his boss did.

"_Yeb tovayu matz_!" President Putin swore, after Yankov put the contents of the press conference into perspective. "That fool American is trying to influence the people and my government colleagues against me!"

"Is there any possible way to quash the story?" Putin asked after a moment's thought. Yankov replied in the negative, telling Putin to put Moscow Channel One on his television. "Shit! It's broadcasting live here on the local channels and outside on all the international outlets!"

President Putin's temper rose, as the English-language Moscow One on his television broadcast the sound of Duke's voice as he read through his notes to the press. "Can we send troops to break up the interview?" Putin asked Yankov. "No? You're right, _tovarich_; that is not how we treat the free press in a democratic nation. And we should not give the Americans a reason to turn other countries that we trade with against us for treating their advisors with contempt publicly. Perhaps I should lodge a complaint with Ambassador Michaels and convince him to rein in those impetuous soldiers."

When Yankov agreed with the President from the Kremlin, Putin thought that it would be best to make a personal appearance at the government barracks, to try to ease the situation before flying off the handle at Ambassador Michaels over the breach in protocol.

After a few moments of fuming, and a strong glass of vodka, Putin came up with an idea. "I shall make it so that this is the first and last time Duke can speak to the public directly before we can get our own message across. This news release could generate some concern in the government, but I think I can influence my supporters in the Parliament to vote appropriately."

"Summon my driver and a Spetznaz escort over to my _dacha_ first thing in the morning, Yankov," President Putin instructed. "I want to go to Sheremetyevo and deal with _Starshina_ Hauser and his G. I. Joes before we prepare our statements and go on the air at the Kremlin. _Da_. _Spasiba_, Comrade."

**Kirovhrad  
22:00 hours, local time**

Dial-Tone was in the dining room continuing to work on the instruments. He had gotten all but two of the radios working, and he knew those two were a hopeless cause. However at the moment, it seemed like a better alternative than working with Flint. Since their conversation before lunch neither one had spoken to each other. Dial-Tone figured it was best to just stay out of his way. He fiddled around uselessly with the busted radio until the doorbell interrupted his work.

_Probably some late night door-to-door salesman._ He thought as he walked to the door. He then wondered if they even existed in the Ukraine. He opened the door to one of the Ukrainians that they had been training.

"Dopomahaty! Tovarysh po zbroyi! Miy brat atakobah Kоbroh!" He shouted.

"Whoa! Slow down." Dial-Tone answered, "I haven't had a chance to pick up the language yet."

Flint heard the commotion and came to the door. When the Ukrainian saw him, he repeated himself for Flint while Dial-Tone looked on in exasperation. Flint put a hand on the agitated man's shoulder and said, "Zaspokoyuvaty. Prymusyty dopomohty vyty."

Flint turned to Dial-Tone and said, "His brother is in trouble. Said Cobra attacked him. He wants us to come with him to help him out." He walked back into the house to get his gun.

Dial-Tone chased after him, "Flint, are you sure this is a good idea? Did he give you any specifics, how many there were? There are only two of us, and I don't think we could take on a large portion of the Cobra Army."

Flint wheeled around to face him, "Dial-Tone, you are more than welcome to stay home. This man needs help and I'm going to give it to him."

"I don't understand. This is the same man you spent half the day yelling at. Why the sudden affection for him?"

"I don't give a shit about him or his brother, but I do about Cobra. If his brother encountered them, I want to know where they are, and how many there are of them. I'm sick of uselessly sitting on my ass, and now I have an opportunity to do something." He checked his weapon and walked back to the front door.

Dial-Tone was stuck in a moment of indecision. He knew he should go and help Flint out, but he still had a nagging suspicion that something was wrong. He watched Flint walk outside to join the Ukrainian. Looking down at his gun, Dial-Tone sighed and followed Flint out the door.

Twenty minutes later they were in the Ukrainian's living room, staring at the near lifeless body of his brother. Flint thought for sure they were too late; the man had apparently been on the losing end of a massive fight. His body looked broken and battered, and each breath he took seemed to be a struggle. The man slowly opened his eyes and began whispering slowly to his brother. Grigory turned to Flint and spoke to him.

Flint continued to be a translator for Dial-Tone. "He's asking for water. Can you get him a glass? I want to stay here and talk to him while he's coherent. Grigory says there's a well out back."

Dial-Tone nodded and walked towards the back of the house. He looked into the darkness and barely made out the shape of a well about twenty feet away from the house. He waited near the door, as his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness. Once his eyes were adjusted, he slowly made his way outside. He still had a bad feeling about the whole situation.

After a few feet he stopped. Movement by the well had caught his eye. He waited another couple of seconds but didn't see anything else. He cursed himself for being so skittish. He reached the well, and lowered the bucket down into the hole. As he was bringing it back up, he heard the sounds of hushed voices a few feet behind him. He tensed, but continued with his efforts. He didn't want to give the impression that he heard his would-be assailants.

He brought the bucket back to the top of the well, just as he heard someone charge towards him. He grabbed a hold of the full bucket and stepped away from the well. Thrasher flew past him, wildly swinging a bat. The bat went flying out of his hands and Thrasher lost his balance. His forward momentum took him over the small wall and into the well. Dial-Tone expected to hear a splash, but he saw that Thrasher had gotten stuck and was trying desperately to get back out. Despite the situation, Dial-Tone could not help laughing. The sight of Monkeywrench charging him brought him back to the problem at hand. He didn't have time to draw his gun, so he swung at Monkeywrench with the bucket that was still in his hand. The water-filled bucket made direct contact with Monkeywrench's head. Monkeywrench looked dazed, stumbled around for a few moments and then fell to the ground.

Dial-Tone took the opportunity to run to the back door. "Flint! It's a trap! The Dreadnoks are here!" He tried to enter the house but was pulled back out by Thrasher who had managed to free himself from the well.

Inside the house, Flint had been listening to the hurt Ukranian's story. He was on his knees, and had leaned in closer as the man's voice began to fail him. Dial-Tone's warning startled him. He looked up at Grigory and reached for his gun. The hurt Ukrainian suddenly sat up, grabbed Flint's gun and hit him on the side of his head.

Flint crumpled to the ground. Grigory shed his mask as he kicked Flint in the shins. Zartan turned to the other man and smiled, "Well done brother."

Zandar too removed his mask. He cocked his head in the direction of the backyard, where there was a good deal of commotion, "You think we should help those two out there?"

Zartan shook his head, "If they can't take down a computer geek, then they deserve to have their asses kicked. Now come on, help me get him into the car."

In the backyard, Dial-Tone struggled for breath. He beat at Thrashers arms that had a strong chokehold around his neck. He suddenly remembered his gun and released his right hand from Thrasher's arm to reach down for his pistol. He was afraid that Thrasher would notice his movements, but Thrasher was too busy screaming at him for knocking him down the well. Dial-Tone's hand clasped on the gun. He pulled it out and quickly stuck it against Thrasher's side and fired.

The effect was instantaneous. Thrasher let go and Dial-Tone fell to the ground, gasping for breath.

"Bloody Hell, you shot me!" Thrasher screamed out.

"No shit, Sherlock," Dial-Tone answered after getting his breath back. He looked Thrasher over and determined that his injury was serious, but not life threatening. He turned again to face Monkeywrench who was very groggily getting to his feet. Dial-Tone pointed his gun towards him and said, "Unless you want to join your buddy in pain, I suggest you just sit your ass back down and leave me alone." Dial-Tone wasn't entirely convinced it was his new-found aggressiveness that caused Monkeywrench to indeed sit back on the ground, but figured the blow to the head was a large part of it. He checked on both Dreadnoks one last time and then went back into the house.

Zartan and Zandar had succeeded in dragging Flint to the side of their car. They roughly dropped him on the ground and Zartan opened the rear passenger door. Zandar bent over to pick Flint up when Flint suddenly came alive and punched Zandar hard in the side of his face. He then jumped up and knocked Zartan to his knees with a sharp kick in the ribs. A kick to his head, and Zartan joined his unconscious brother on the ground.

Flint stood over the brothers and gloated. "That's payback you assholes. Next time do a better job of checking to see if your victim is really unconscious."

Dial-Tone ran out of the house. "Flint are you okay?"

"I am now, how about you?"

"Fine. I have to admit it was pretty exciting to be back in a fight again." Dial-Tone grinned. Flint cracked his first smile in days. "DT, I think you're completely insane. How many are in the back?"

"Just two. I had to shoot Thrasher, but he'll live. Monkeywrench is dazed and confused, so I think he's all right for a few minutes. What are we going to do with them?"

"Find some rope and tie them up. I'm debating dropping them off in front of the president's mansion, but I think I'll just leave them here. They could report their failure to Cobra on their own."

Dial-Tone nodded and went to find some rope. They worked quickly, and were done within a half hour. Zartan had come alive as they were leaving and cursed at them as they walked out of the house.

Flint clapped Dial-Tone on the back, "You did good, DT. I didn't think you had it in you. And you know what - I'm starving. How about we get something to eat, my treat?"

Dial-Tone stopped and looked at Flint. He then shook his head and laughed. "And you think I'm insane."


	8. Field Trip

**Presidential Palace, Kiev  
****0500 hours, local time**

Cobra Commander was alone in his office. He looked at the clock and knew he should be in bed, but he wasn't tired. In fact he had just come from his bed. He had sweet-talked his assistant enough to get her in bed with him, but that turned out to be a disappointment. She had the looks, but not the talent. It left him frustrated, which was a common emotion for him.

Over the years he had thought up many glorious plans that ended up failing for various reasons. Time and time again he had come close to achieving his desire for world domination only to be thwarted by the Joes, or by the incompetence of his own people. Then there were the times he was betrayed by his associates. He thought back to the disastrous alliance Cobra had formed with Cobra-La - the trial, his sentence, and his transformation to a snake. He was lucky because he had no memories of his time as a snake; in fact his first memory afterwards was waking up on a table and staring into the face of Destro. He still wasn't totally sure how or even why Destro brought him back, but he knew he would find out in due time.

He tried to block the unpleasant events of the past out of his mind, and focus on the present. He wasn't going to fail again. He would do everything in his power to secure a victory this time. It was the main reason he couldn't sleep right now. There were too many things happening at the same time. Destro had checked in earlier and Putin was falling into their pockets, exactly as planned. The Dreadnoks should also be reporting in soon about their quest to take out the Joes covert team.

As if on cue, there was a knock at the door. He yelled for the person to enter and instantly regretted his decision. Zarana, Buzzer, and Torch entered and by the expressions on their faces he could tell things did not go well. "Don't even tell me you failed," He spat out.

"If I wasn't forced to drag along these incompetents, I wouldn't have to report my failures!" Zarana shouted back.

"What were we supposed to do, Zarana? We had fifteen, no, twenty guns pointed at us!" Torch said.

Cobra Commander felt himself on the verge of losing control. "Everyone shut up! You were supposed to take out one man. How did that turn into twenty guns?"

"He had allies! And they all turned against us," Buzzer began to explain but was silenced by Zarana who took over the explanation. She told the Commander about trailing Shipwreck and facing him in the bar, and finally the end confrontation with the other Ukrainians.

When Zarana finished Cobra Commander turned his back on them. He was trying to determine his next plan of attack when there was another knock on the door. He hesitantly told the knocker to enter. This time Zartan, Zandar and Monkeywrench entered. Once again he had a feeling of dread. After entering the room, Zartan kneeled to the ground and said, "I must confess, Commander, our mission was not a complete success."

"Oh?" was all that the Commander was able to say.

"No sir, the Joes…the Joes escaped. And Thrasher had to seek medical attention due to a gunshot wound he received."

Cobra Commander became irate. He didn't give a shit about Thrasher's medical condition, all he knew is that both of his plans backfired and now there was going to be hell to pay. "Everyone, GET OUT OF MY OFFICE," He shrieked.

The Dreadnoks were frozen in place for a moment before they decided that leaving the room was the best option at the moment. Cobra Commander could hear them bickering as they walked out into the hall. He paused a moment, and then decided on his next course of action. He picked up the phone. "Get me President Yelchichev. Yes I am well aware of what time it is." He waited a few moments until Yelchichev answered. "Mr. President, I want you to order an attack on the embassies."

**American Embassy in Kiev  
****0700 hours, local time**

"I don't think we're a covert team anymore," Flint announced to Mary after barging into her office. He then noticed that Gorman was in the room, "I'm glad you're here, sir. This saves me a trip down the hall."

Gorman was not amused. "I believe you two have orders to carry out in Kirovhrad. What the hell are you doing in Kiev?"

"We were paid a visit last night by Zartan and his lackeys. Luckily for us, that whole group is incompetent, or you would have been burying two more agents," Flint replied. "We decided that the safehouse wasn't living up to its name and came up here this morning."

Mary looked visibly shaken, "Zartan? Doesn't he work for Cobra?"

"There's no way to know that." Gorman answered earning an irritated look from Flint.

"The only time Zartan works on his own is when he's trying to overthrow the Commander himself. This is very typical of Cobra Commander to hire out the Dreadnoks to do his dirty work. It also makes me wonder how accidental Alison's…" Flint paused as he swallowed hard, "Lady Jaye's death was."

"From all indications it was just a late night icy wreck," Gorman replied. "Such a shame to lose two agents in such an important political situation. It's a pity we can't replace them."

Flint stiffened while Mary looked on in horror. Gorman continued, oblivious to the reactions in the room. "What about the other agent? Did he abandon his post too?"

Flint was too angry to speak, so Dial-Tone answered for him "We had gotten a phone call from Shipwreck yesterday, but we haven't heard from him since. Hopefully, he was successful too. If it wasn't for him we wouldn't have been alerted to Cobra's attack."

Gorman turned to Mary, "See if you and Charlie can hunt Shipwreck down. Also see if you can verify this Zartan character and if he is indeed connected with Cobra. As for you two, I want you to return to Kirovhrad immediately. If you're nervous about another attack, you can discontinue your training sessions, and just lay low for the next day or two."

Flint finally lost the battle with his temper, "You have got to be kidding me! GI Joe was brought into this so we would have a chance of fighting Cobra, not to sit here idly by why they assassinate members of our team one by one."

"In case you forgot, Flint, you are not on the Joe team anymore. You are working with the Central Intelligence Agency under my jurisdiction. Any other member of your team also falls under my jurisdiction. We're an intelligence group, not a military one. We do not go into a situation shooting and then ask the questions. If you have a problem with this, I will have you on a plane back to the states so fast and replaced with someone who doesn't question my orders."

Flint was speechless. He glanced at Mary who nodded. She didn't agree with Gorman, but he was also her boss. Her hands were tied.

Flint rubbed his hand through his hair. He couldn't just let this matter drop without a final word. He didn't care if he committed career suicide, at the moment it didn't look like a job he wanted to keep. "That's just great. When you pass along the intelligence gathered you might as well tell them that my recommendation is to reassign the whole goddamn team. Let Cobra take over this God-forsaken country, and when the day comes that we wake up to the knowledge that dozens of nuclear warheads are heading towards our biggest cities, you can explain to the other people in charge that they did a real bang-up job of protecting the United States." He then walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Gorman shrugged as Mary looked on, stunned at what she just witnessed. "Reason number seventy-five why I didn't want him working on this assignment in the first place. Can't keep his emotions in check."

Gorman's personal phone rang, ending the conversation. Turning his back to Mary, he answered his phone. For a few moments he was quiet but suddenly he whipped around in his seat. Placing the phone back on its cradle, he took a deep breath and then said, "Will you excuse me? I need to go to my office and continue this conversation."

Before Mary could respond Gorman left the office and hurried down to his own. Once inside he closed the door and began to talk. "He wants to do what?"

Yelchichev was on the other end sounding frantic. "I told you that he wants to attack both embassies. He called me at five this morning asking me to authorize it. I've spent the past two hours trying to talk him out of it but he won't listen. With Destro in Moscow you're the only one who might be able to reason with him."

Gorman could not believe his luck. "The fool will ruin everything if he does that. Tell him not to do a thing until I get there."

**Ukraine Embassy, Moscow  
****0900 hours, local time**

Destro paced around the small cryptography room that the embassy used for secure communications with Kiev. A Tele-Viper had finished transferring the television news feeds to standard videotape, and was re-rolling the recorded film into a satellite transmitter for Cobra Commander's people to review. The Baroness, having shed her disguise as Destro's female assistant, was on a scrambled radiophone, contacting Kiev's Military Intelligence Branch.

"_Da_, Colonel Petyakov," Baroness said. "I need the best agent available. I cannot supervise the operation against the GI Joes personally. With Zartan and his rowdy lot working on the internal situation, they are unavailable as well. I need someone with choice talents, and capable of recruiting an inside agent to facilitate the operation."

The Ukrainian Colonel of Army Intelligence ruffled through some files and replied to the Baroness's request.

"A former KGB Sparrow? She would do nicely," Baroness said. "We have a contact here among the Russian Mafia who can find out who is escorting the GI Joe team outside Moscow, and among them, the most susceptible to coercion. Very good, Colonel, you will be well rewarded if this mission succeeds. Get her in touch with us… y_esterday_. _Spasiba_, Colonel."

The Baroness put the phone down and turned towards Destro.

"Well?" Destro asked, raising an eyebrow under his mask.

"We have the perfect agent to run the operation against the GI Joe team," Baroness reported. "Her name is Anna Petrova Mischkin. She was trained by the KGB during the Cold War to be a Sparrow. It was a code name program for young, pretty, and physically fit women recruited into the First and Second Chief Directorates to gather covert intelligence and to recruit foreign agents."

"Their _modus operandi_ was to work as prostitutes, fashion models, actresses, domestics, and mail-order brides in order to infiltrate countries through legal immigration loopholes. Second Chief Directorate also used them as Army nurses, radio operators and secretaries to spy on every level of the Army establishment. Once inside they would use powers of seduction to hook a target, and then leverage their ability to blackmail the target until the desired effect is reached."

"Mischkin was part of a KGB RIF when the Cold War ended, and she resided in Kiev when Ukraine split off from Russia. She was recruited into the Ukrainian Intelligence Service when we took over, and infiltrated the border area between Ukraine and Russia as part of an operation to probe the border defenses. So, she is already in place and has a functioning cover as 'Irina Petrova', a locally known figure. Outwardly, she is a prostitute among the other young ladies that service the Category II Reservist troops manning the westernmost border defenses."

"She also has a secondary cover as a Russian Army Nurse Corps Lieutenant ... _Orumova_, I believe, which she can play to get on and off the actual military base when the time is right. I have ordered her brought to a local safe house through the existing network of Moscow agents so that we can brief her. Have you talked to the mobsters yet?"

Destro replied, "I have met with them early this morning. They have an informant in the Army Personnel Office who owed them a huge gambling debt. The informant told them of special orders coming across his desk for four Spetsnaz Commandos, formerly assigned to the FSB Headquarters Guard Detachment at Number Two Dzerzhinsky Square, currently assigned to "Special Liaison and Security Duty outside of Moscow." Our Mafia friends did some further checking, and found that one of them, a Corporal Butyinskiy, was a known party. He frequented their prostitution and gambling racket, and has amassed some degree of debt."

"We will pay off his debt and give him a little bonus in exchange for him to help us disable the Joe team. The enforcer that collects his payments knows what to do already to set the stage. Butyinskiy will be coerced to contact and report to our Sparrow in the field after feeding the Mafia information on the GI Joe survey itinerary, which the mobsters are giving to us. 'Irina' will take over running him from there. I must call them in a moment to hammer out the details."

**Sheremetyevo Government Barracks, outside Moscow  
****0900 hours, local time**

President Vladimir Putin, flanked by four Spetsnaz troops and his normal Interior Ministry security escort, stormed into the anteroom of the barracks that the G. I. Joe team was using as their offices and temporary home. The four Joes, already awake and working, stood respectfully and snapped to attention.

"What is this about you talking on live television last night?" Putin growled. "You completely sidestepped my authority and broadcast your views to my people! You are a small fish playing in a very large pond, _Starshina_ Hauser! Statecraft and politics are not your business!"

Duke shot back, "I am in the business of saving innocent lives and protecting the stability of the free world! I do not recall swearing any loyalty to you personally. My sworn duty is to serve and protect the American people, and the innocent civilians of the free world, including the Russian people that _you_ took an oath to defend."

"My orders were to advise the Russian government about Cobra, a mission you have stalled at every turn. My team is tired of spinning our wheels and getting no results here. So, I advised the government by speaking out."

President Putin stepped forward until he was toe-to-toe with the slightly taller American. He waved an angry finger in Duke's face. "I plan to contact Ambassador Michaels at the Embassy and lodge a formal complaint with the American State Department concerning your actions. I should demand your recall to the United States! You have intruded upon something you have no right to involve yourselves in!"

Ambassador Michaels had been in the lavatory during the initial exchange, but came out when he heard the commotion grow. President Putin, upon seeing him, clammed up a bit. Michaels was likely in the barracks to get briefed by Duke about everything that had gone on the night before. He either knew everything already, or had yet to find out, but Putin knew that he _should_ keep his cool.

"Did you say something about a diplomatic complaint, Mister President?" Ambassador Michaels said quietly. "I am here to listen. What do you have to say about my people, here?"

"It is not a concern yet, Ambassador," Putin said. "Perhaps this is not the time to make that decision." The Russian President turned his attention back to Duke, stepping back to give both of them a little breathing room.

"We're here to do our duty, Mister President," Duke said. "The Russian people expect us to be able to take the steps needed to protect the progress they've worked hard for over the past few years. Cobra is a direct threat to all of the initiatives towards peace with the West."

"_Da_, _Starshina_ Hauser," Putin said. "I can appreciate the importance of doing one's duty. I did come here to request the favor of a mission from you. Since, as you so bluntly put it, we have had you 'spinning your wheels' here in Moscow, I wish to send you on a field trip."

"As the talks with Destro continue, the Minister of Defense and I could use an objective viewpoint on our defensive stance along the Ukrainian border, in the event of trouble. I need to know from an expert's opinion whether the Russian forces are not only able to secure our border, but whether they are also able to handle any potential civil disturbance situations. We anticipate there may be some uproar along the border, should some sort of agreement open up better relations between Moscow and Kiev."

"I have brought these four Spetsnaz men to assist and escort you during the trip. They shall serve as translators and guides, and have been ordered to work with my liaison officers at each military base to help you report your findings back to Moscow. I shall also like to have a report prepared for me to present to the Politburo regarding your survey, upon its completion."

Duke knew Putin was trying to suppress the team for a while. He wanted to object, but Michaels was giving him the look that said, _That IS your mission here. Don't refuse right after you told him what your duty was_.

Duke meekly replied, "When shall we leave, Mister President?"

"As soon as you can, please," Putin said. "The Politburo will be entering an unscheduled session at my request in a fortnight's time, in order to discuss Ukrainian relations, and the Minister of Defense wishes to be ready to report to them as well. Oh, and I ask that you limit communications to periodic progress reports through my liaison officers in the military posts."

"While I am talking to Destro, and extending him the customary diplomatic courtesies, I do not want him learning of our defensive posture from a stray telephone or cellular call made close to the frontier where their soldiers can listen in. It is statecraft, Duke. I am not showing Destro all of my cards, just as I did when Ambassador Michaels opened up relations here. I am not a political fool, you see."

Duke cast a knowing look at Scarlett. Having Michaels in the room did make Putin watch his tongue, and now he is trying to play salesman, to make his previous outburst pan out. The conversations ended a lot calmer than they started, and Putin eventually left after issuing some orders for the joint team's departure.

Ambassador Michaels spoke once Putin was gone and Duke reported the beginning of the conversation. "Duke, you did the right thing. You followed orders and only told the truth on TV last night. I saw the broadcast, and the CIA and Pentagon will have seen it by now as well. The Moscow station chief and his case officers were in the secure section at three-thirty this morning drafting a report to the Director of Central Intelligence.

"It took some balls to stand up to Putin and use the media against him. I am intimately acquainted with the Defense Minister and the CIA Station Chief knows the head of the FSB. They share our views on Cobra. I will let them know subtly that Putin is a political wildcard right now and may try to undermine your advisory efforts overtly.

"I will also let them know that Cobra may try to do something to you during your survey when you are in unfamiliar territory. Hawk would tell you to watch your backs. I'm telling you the same. Good luck. I will insure that you get any and all support from the Russian Army, GRU, and FSB Second Chief Directorate assets that you require. And they will be at your disposal, whether Putin says so or not."

Scarlett interjected, "Ambassador, thank you for the support. I do have a request. Can you focus some of that Russian support into locating and bringing back to duty the members of the October Guard? Colonel Brekhov and his associates are the best the Russians have at fighting Cobra, and we've encountered them a few times. We could really use their expertise and relative freedom of movement within Russia to flex that subtle muscle you're giving us."

Michaels replied that he would make every effort to secure that favor. He soon departed for the American Embassy, and the team began packing up their essentials, to leave for the survey trip.

**Presidential Palace in Kiev  
****0930 hours, local time**

Beth was not in a good mood. Granted, that could be said most of the time, but this morning she was feeling extraordinarily crappy. She knew she should be focusing on the task at hand, but her thoughts kept returning to the scene last night at the hockey game. _She pops in and out of my life like some wayward godmother, and she has the nerve to criticize me now? If it wasn't for me she would have been killed days ago._

She loosened the last screw off the vent cover and hoisted herself into the shaft. _Fuck Tom Cruise, this is the real Mission Impossible. _Beth pulled out a penlight and pointed it down the shaft to get her bearings. She had bribed Cobra Commander's secretary to get a copy of his schedule. He was due to be in meetings and press interviews most of the morning, so she knew now was her chance. Technically, she still did not have total clearance to go in and bug the Commander's office, but she was tired of waiting. She had some hunches that she wanted verified and the sooner the better.

As she crawled her way through the twists and turns of the shaft, her mind turned back to Jaye. _She thinks she is so high and mighty, yet her life is just about as screwed up. She claims she's happy, but she's really not_. _I may be a monster, but I'm a monster who's managed to maintain a relationship with a great guy. _She felt her blood pressure begin to rise again. Beth wasn't paying close attention and scraped her shoulder against a jagged piece of metal. Her hand immediately went towards the cut as she gritted her teeth to keep from shouting a litany of obscenities. Once the initial pain had subsided the she pulled a napkin out of her pocket to wipe away the blood. _Fuck. Probably have to get a tetanus shot now. Maybe this'll match one of the cuts from last night's beer bottle. This is just the cherry on the sundae of my week. _As she put the napkin back in her pocket she took a deep breath and tried to relax. _I knew I should've told Panda to find a way to keep her from coming here. Things never go the way you want when it becomes personal._

She pulled out the blueprints to the building and shining her light on it, she saw that Cobra Commander's office was just a couple of turns away. Silently, but quickly, she made her way until she was looking through the vent into his office. She removed her tools to begin working on removing the vent, but suddenly stopped. She heard movement below and straining to look below, she caught a glimpse of the Commander still in his office. _Damn it all to Hell!_

Not wanting to risk exposure by leaving and coming back at a later point Beth decided to wait him out. After a few minutes, the door opened and the Crimson Twins walked in. _Maybe this won't be such a bust after all. _Pulling a tape recorder out of her pocket she positioned it towards the vent, hoping it would pick up the conversation.

"Xamot, Tomax, I have a new assignment for you," Cobra Commander said.

"What about our all-important baby-sitting duties?" Tomax asked snidely.

"I do not have time for this insubordination," The commander yelled. "You are being reassigned. I want you two to lead an attack on The American and British Embassies. I want to send a message that I am not to be fooled with."

Beth's eyes bugged out her head and she had to keep herself from gasping at the news. While Hawk's plan all along had been to provoke Cobra into doing something rash, the general consensus was that any rash act would be pointed towards GI Joe or the military. Organizing an armed assault on innocent civilians added a new crease in the entire operation. She shook her head in disbelief as she refocused her attention to the ensuing conversation.

Xamot looked at his brother and then back to the Commander. "You can't be serious about attacking the embassies?"

"I am completely serious. The Joes were able to escape the traps I had set for them last night. I want to show the world that they do not have the upper hand. I will not be denied my rightful place as ruler of this world."

Not for the first or the last time the Twins found themselves wondering what was going through Destro's mind when he restored the Commander to his human self. "You do realize that you'll be starting an international war by attacking the embassies," Tomax said. "Neither government will take kindly to your attacking diplomats and their children."

"I don't care about them. International opinion is keeping them from barreling in here in the first place. "

Before the Twins could continue their side of the argument the door flew open and Gorman strode into the office. Slamming the door he continued to head towards the Commander. By the time he reached the Commander he was in Beth's line of sight. She stared wide-eyed as Gorman grabbed the Commander by the collar of his shirt. Beth began to mentally kick herself for not bringing a camera while at the same time praying that the tape recorder was working properly as Gorman began to speak. "What the _hell_ do you think you're doing?"

Cobra Commander squirmed slightly in Gorman's grasp. "I may ask you the same thing. How dare you put your hands on me."

Gorman let him go. "You'll ruin everything you fucking fool if you attack the embassies. I'm on thin ice as it is without you going gangbusters for no apparent reason. It's bad enough Yelchichev is calling me at my office crying about how you've gone to far."

"I thought you would be pleased with this decision, Albert. It'll save you the trouble of having to smuggle files out of the embassy now."

"Try looking at the bigger picture for once you son of a bitch. While you're raiding the embassy I'll have to explain to my superiors how my department missed the warning signs for a third time in a row. There are only so many times I can blame it on the incompetency of others."

Tomax raised his hand to stop the argument. "I think I have an idea that will satisfy both of you." Gorman and Cobra Commander turned to look at him. "I doubt either embassy will allow themselves to be taken quietly. I suggest we declare martial law."

"And create a public relations nightmare for the Americans," said Xamot. "In conjunction with declaring martial law we release what we know about the Joes. That should spark enough anti-American sentiment among our neighbors. The world will see it as another attempt by the Americans to flex their muscle wherever they please with total disregard for international opinion."

"If we tell the locals that we're declaring martial law to protect them it should keep discontent on the home front to a minimum," Tomax said. "A history of oppression from outsiders should help create hatred of America and foster the fear that another outside government will attempt to force their will on them."

Xamot picked up the thread from his brother. "That along with Destro hopefully announcing a new relationship with Russia will show that we legitimately want peace. It will eliminate the need for any bloodshed while sending the message that we know what's going on."

Cobra Commander spoke. "Excellent Tomax. You may earn your pay yet."

The Twins ignored the insult. "The earliest we could anything is probably this evening," Xamot said. "We need to release the information implicating GI Joe in a plot to topple our government. Yelchichev will need to be prepped. He'll have to address the country tonight explaining what's going on. I suggest we wait till after a majority of the workers have gone home for the evening to declare marital law. Less people in the city will decrease the chance of any protests."

"Won't that expose me," asked Gorman. "My superiors are already suspicious of everything going on over here. The releasing of the covert Joe plan may be enough to finally turn their eyes towards me."

"You still have some agents over here that are not connected to the Joes, correct," asked Tomax. Gorman nodded in response. "Start shifting evidence towards them as possible moles. We'll have Yelchichev explain that we want to search the embassy for further evidence of America's plan to topple our government. If we do our jobs right they'll be forced by the rest of Europe to let us search and that's when we can find evidence implicating whomever you pick that they're the mole. And at the same time it'll give us a formal reason to arrest the Joes."

Gorman smiled and nodded approvingly. "I've got just the agents in mind."

Cobra Commander turned back to his desk and waved his hand in their general direction. "I don't care how you do it. Just do it."

Gorman and the Twins walked out of the office and Beth's view, leaving the Commander alone. Beth stopped the tape recorder and started to back out of the shaft.

**Somewhere between Kiev and Kirovohrad  
****1100 hours, local time**

Dial-Tone was at the wheel. He had volunteered to drive since Flint was the one to drive up. Plus considering Flint's mood he had been afraid that Flint might crash them both into a tree. They had been on the road for over an hour without a word being spoken. Dial-Tone glanced over at his friend, who appeared to be sleeping. He was startled when a short time later Flint spoke.

"So married life is being good to you?"

Dial-Tone grinned, "It really is. Linda is wonderful. She understood the reason why I had to come over here. I feel bad deserting her with so little notice, but she encouraged me to go. She knew that I would regret it if I had let down the Joe team."

Flint nodded. "Must be nice to have someone care about you like that."

_That's an understatement_. While on the Joe team, Dial-Tone was basically a loser. Linda changed it all. She helped him come out of his shell, and he was eternally grateful for her. He wondered what he would do if he lost her.

Dial-Tone looked at Flint and once again, his heart went out to his heartbroken friend. He knew how much Flint loved Lady Jaye. On the Joe team they had been inseparable. He also knew that whatever happened after the team disbanded couldn't have broken the bond they had shared.

"Flint, I'm here if you need to talk about…things." The words sounded lame to him, but it was all Dial-Tone could offer.

Flint bowed his head. "Not much to talk about. I fucked things up, lost the best thing that happened to me, and now I can never get her back."

The two men went silent. Dial-Tone desperately tried to think up an appropriate response, but failed miserably. After a few moments, Flint was the one to break the silence.

"You're a lucky man, Dial-Tone. I hope you realize that."

Dial-Tone nodded. He looked at the clock and did the time conversion in his head. It was still very early morning back home. Linda would be waking up in a couple of hours. He should be able to make it to the safehouse to call her before she left for work. But in the meantime, he had to say something to comfort his friend. "I'm so very sorry about Lady Jaye."

**Somewhere between Moscow and the Ukraine Border**

The Tatra 818 heavy truck selected for the border survey was perfect for the job of carrying the small team of GI Joe advisors and their handful of Russian liaison personnel down to the Ukraine border for their evaluation of the defensive situation versus Cobra. The cab could seat six comfortably, eight in a crush, and had the unique, for military trucks, characteristic of four doors which made for rapid disembarking in the event of trouble. The cab even had a small storage bin behind the rear bench seat for personal gear, aside from the cavernous bed that could carry twenty thousand pounds of cargo. It was of East German manufacture and the vehicle's smooth ride on all eight wheels was a tribute to the precision and quality of Communist Germany's heavy industry.

Eight people rode in the truck: Duke and Scarlett in the rear seat, Lieutenant Colonel Alexei Ivanovich Dobunin, their ranking Russian Army liaison/translator and Spetsnaz commando, and Corporal Butyinskiy, a Spetsnaz man assigned as their guide and driver rode in front. In the truck bed were Snake-Eyes, Stalker, and two additional Spetsnaz escorts, Lieutenant Pyotr Ruchenko and Sergeant Valentin Mishkov, who had also been assigned to the four Americans as support and translators. Ruchenko and Mishkov had spent their Cold War careers training to impersonate NATO personnel behind the enemy lines as a precursor to Warsaw Pact assault. Their English was superb, spoken without an accent.

The Americans had been either wearing civilian clothes or their US Army Class 'A' working dress uniforms for their tasks in Moscow. For the field trip, they had switched to nondescript Russian battle dress utilities, in the well-known Spetsnaz pattern, including the blue and white striped Airborne tee shirt traditionally worn beneath the mustard and green, disruptive-pattern tunic. They still wore their US rank insignia on their collars and a patch with the US flag on their shoulders, to help distinguish them from the similarly attired Russians.

The small band of American and Russian soldiers began their trip many hours before, loading their Tatra on board an Ilyushin IL-76 "Candid" airlifter at Moscow's Sheremetyevo International Airport, and flew aboard that aircraft to Minsk International Airport, in Belarus, which was a former V-VS fighter base. Belarus still had a very close relationship with Moscow, and didn't complain that military missions were going through their capital city. The IL-76 always had a section of two Su-27 'Flanker' jet fighters close by for aerial escort, seconded from their normal patrol routines.

Upon disembarking, the Joes and Russians drove from Minsk to the Ukrainian border, with the first assigned survey stop about nine hours' drive away. The first part of their itinerary was to call on the 176th (Rogachev) Guards Motor Rifle Division, a Category II unit whose laager and training areas were on the border.

Category II units, while still bearing the brunt of internal military duties in the New Russia, were manned at about forty to sixty-five percent of strength during peacetime. Although such a staffing level was even less than the Cold War's typical seventy-five percent, the division had their full complement of equipment.

The Rogachev Guards Division could respond to an emerging crisis, fully manned, within fifteen days, which was a much better performance than other Category II and even some demobilized "elite" Category I divisions on the European side of Russia. The Rogachev Guards now occupied a position of strategic importance to Russia's defense; thus Moscow saw fit to funnel the division some good fortunes for its status and readiness.

The "Iron Division" rotated one of its three organic, reinforced regimental combat teams to the security of the Ukraine-Russia border. With the coming of the Cobra crisis, the Rogachev Guards seemed to be in a very high state of readiness, with their regiments ramping up through training, when not on the border making observations regarding the new hardware being fielded by Cobra and the Ukraine.

Arrayed against the border on Russia's side were the most modern BMP-3 infantry carriers in the Motor Rifle Regiment, bristling with large-caliber support weapons and anti-tank missiles, and a battalion of forty T-80M2 Main Battle Tanks of the 125mm type detached from the division's supporting Tank Regiment.

Rounding out the border strength of the Iron Division was a self-propelled battalion of twenty-four 152mm guns. Command Headquarters, Supply and Transport units, Combat Engineers, Signal troops, Chemical teams and Anti-Tank elements mainly using older equipment were given to the Regimental Combat Teams from among the Iron Division's supporting units.

All told, about 3,500 to 4,000 crack reservists, among them a sprinkling of "borrowed" regular soldiers, formed the Iron Division sector's first line of defense against Cobra. They even received support from a squadron of Mi-24 Hind-B attack helicopters from the 339th Assault Helicopter Regiment, a Category II unit from Russia's Frontal Aviation command.

Conventionally speaking, it was a force to be reckoned with. In actuality, the Division's full complement of BMP-3's were always on the line - full mobilization would require two regiments of the Division to mount up in BTR-80 wheeled carriers - with current regimental training needs accomplished by drawing additional BMP-3 vehicles from a Corps-level stock earmarked for readiness training.

With the Ukrainian threat, however, there was talk of audaciously reinforcing the Division with a Category III regiment trained on the BTR and permanently giving the Division a second regiment's worth of BMP-3 vehicles from the Corps stocks. The government's other plan, which was more likely, was converting the stocks held in the Division Pool to allow the Rogachev Guards to deploy two BMP-3 regiments against Cobra should open combat break out.

Either way, the Government did see some benefit to the Iron Division's strategic position, and wanted to be prepared, despite possibly stripping an infantry unit or prized BMP-3 vehicles from the Kola Peninsula or the Far East. Money was still tight.

When the GI Joe liaison team arrived at the Division's main training laager and base, about fifty kilometers from the border sector they were responsible for, the sun was still in the sky, although red-orange and low on the horizon. The liaison party was greeted by one of the 439th Guards Motor Rifle Regiment's mechanized infantry companies, arrayed in an honor guard formation at the base entrance. The 439th Guards was the Iron Division combat team currently assigned to training, and would be rotating to the border in a few weeks to let the 441st Motor Rifles (the "Snake Eaters") go inactive for a time of rest. While no one really publicized the itinerary of the survey group, it seemed that the Major General in command of the division, a professional fellow and war veteran named Votyinskiy, was pleased to be making their acquaintance.

**American Embassy in Kiev  
****1200 hours, local time**

Mary and Charlie were returning from a lunch/vent session at a local restaurant. Mary had been appalled at Gorman's reaction to Flint's report and needed to complain to someone. Charlie had needed to vent about Gorman continually stonewalling him every time he wanted to set up some listening devices in the Presidential Palace, so they took the opportunity to have an early lunch to bring their blood pressures down to acceptable levels. Both were surprised when they opened up the door to Mary's office to find Beth sitting at her desk. They weren't sure how to handle her and didn't get a chance to fully assess the situation before Beth began to speak. "You know, we really need to have a talk with the State Department when this is all over. I should not be able to flash a plain jane ID and be allowed to sit in here all by myself. If I were a less scrupulous person I'd have made copies of all sorts of stuff by now. Then again someone's beaten me to the punch so I wouldn't have to even if I wanted to."

Charlie looked at his wife, flabbergasted that not only was there a stranger in the office but a cocky one at that. "And just who are you exactly?"

"That's not important at the moment. I need you two to help me convince Wainright that he needs to get all the staff evacuated."

"And we're supposed to follow your requests because…?"

Beth sighed and wrote a number down on a slip of paper that she then handed to Mary. "Call this number and tell them that you've got Harkins in your office right now. Then tell them that Red Chief is our man and he's working with the snakes."

Mary saw that it was an American number. Trying to find guidance from Charlie all she got was a shrug. Figuring she had nothing to lose at this point she picked up the phone, asked for a secure line, dialed the number and handed the phone to Charlie. When he heard the line pick up he timidly said, "Hello?"

On the other end was Jeffries, Bellows personal assistant. He groaned and rubbed some crusties out of his eyes. "Is that you, Remington? Trying to get me back for waking you up earlier? Just because your girlfriend makes my life a living hell doesn't mean you get to pick up the slack when she's away."

"Um…no. I'm supposed to tell you that Harkins is in my office, Red Chief is your man, and he's working with snakes."

Jeffries sat up straight in bed, reaching for the lamp. "Please tell me Harkins is kidding."

"No, I don't think she's kidding."

"Assuming that Harkins is standing right in front of you, where are you?"

"The American embassy."

Jeffries was frantically thumbing through his notes. "Okay, that must make you Tommy. You and Tuppence follow orders from Harkins from now on."

Charlie looked at Mary, looked at Beth, and then turned back to Mary. "We're supposed to follow her."

Beth smiled. "Tell him we need to evacuate this embassy and all the other countries should do the same. Cobra is going to declare martial law this evening after all the workers have left the city and tell the world about the Joes in the Ukraine. Once they shut the city down they're gonna make a play on our embassy to get the last of Red Chief's intel and eliminate all traces of his involvement with Cobra. I think he's gonna work the intel so it makes it look like the two of you are working for Cobra."

"Are you serious?" asked Mary.

"I wouldn't be here if it wasn't serious."

Charlie's face blanched. He relayed Beth's message to Jeffries. "Christ, it's that bad? Don't answer that, you wouldn't be talking to me if it wasn't. Do what you need to do to get things organized on your end and I'll get things started on mine." Jeffries hung up the phone before Charlie could get another word in.

Charlie hung the phone up and then stared at Beth. "Did I just talk to Mini-Me?"

"What did he say?"

"That he'll get things working on his end involving evacuating the embassies. And something about some guy name Remington and his girlfriend who apparently gives him a hard time."

Beth chuckled at the latter portion of Charlie's comment. "Great. Then lead the way." She got out of the chair and walked out of the office, showing that she knew where Wainright was.

Mary and Charlie followed behind her. As they were walking Mary began to talk quietly. "Did you really speak to Mini-Me?"

"Yes. I don't know who she is, but she's got to be someone important enough to have his direct line."

They reached to door to Wainright's office and Beth just opened the door. As she walked in Wainright was in the middle of a meeting with Cornell. Before either man could speak Beth started the conversation. "Excellent, saves me the time of having to do this twice."

Wainright was already on the phone with security as Cornell turned towards Beth. "What is the meaning of this interruption? If this is a statement on security overall it's a wonder your embassies don't get bombed on a more regular basis."

"It's a wonder many things don't happen as often as they should. Anyway, I need both of you to get your staff and their families ready to immediately evacuate this country."

Cornell's face went white at the prospect as Wainright put the phone down. "Security says you have proper authorization." He saw Mary and Charlie trying to blend in with the background. "Just who the hell is she and what is this talk about evacuation?"

Before they could speak Beth stuck out her hand towards Cornell and Wainright. "So terribly rude of me not to introduce myself. My name is Beth Harkins and I work for the same firm that Mary and Charlie do. If all goes according to schedule you should be getting a call from the Secretary of State or one of his guys in a minute or so authorizing the evacuation of this embassy and that the other foreign embassies are doing the same." To emphasize the point she looked at her watch.

"Provided that what you're saying is correct, would you mind telling me the reason for this evacuation?"

"Basically because the head snake has finally snapped and wants to squeeze the hell out of us."

"The head snake?"

"I think she's referring to Cobra Commander," offered Mary.

"I realize that," snapped Wainright. The phone then rang and Wainright picked it up. "Hello?" He looked at Beth as he spoke to the person on the other end. After a few moments he spoke again. "Yes sir, I understand. We can probably have the first wave ready to leave within a couple of hours." He hung the phone back up. "You were right. We're evacuating as are the Brits."

"Then I think I had better be leaving," Cornell said as he stood up. "I get the feeling I'm about to receive a similar call from my government." Cornell walked out of the office, leaving Wainright alone with Beth, Mary, and Charlie.

"What is exactly going on here?"

"Suffice it to say, Cobra has reverted back to their old heavy handed ways. Mary and Charlie will stay with me. I'll be in Gorman's temporary office if you need me." She turned and walked out, leaving Mary and Charlie to shrug sheepishly at Wainright before moving to follow Beth. They followed silently behind as she made her way to Gorman's office. When she reached the door she turned towards them. "Everyone and everything here has been compromised. We're forcing Gorman's hand by evacuating the embassy. I doubt he's gonna be coming back here once he's notified of the evacuation, but if he does I'll take care of him."

She handed them an audio cassette and a piece of paper. "This tape proves that Gorman's involved. On the paper are directions to the house I want you to go when you're done here. In what time is left I've got to figure out just how bad the damage is. I want you two to grab anything regarding the whereabouts of the agents you still have out in the field and anything that looks suspicious, destroy what isn't of any use, and then gather up Flint and Dial-Tone. A man will be sent to get Shipwreck and Brant will bring the others. Then all of you need to get out of this country and get that tape to Bellows." Beth opened the door and entered Gorman's office before either of them could say anything to her.


	9. Big Girls Walk Away

**Brant's Apartment  
****Kiev, Ukraine  
****12:15 hours, local time**

Lady Jaye sat in Brant's living room. She was alone for the morning, since Brant was at the embassy. She had no plans, which was fine. She had been up half the night thinking about the discussion with Beth at the hockey game last night. Lady Jaye tried to remember the last time she had seen her. There was that time that Beth had gotten a break, and saw Lady Jaye in one of her plays. They had gone out afterwards and Lady Jaye had spent the night avoiding her questions about Flint and the CIA. She wasn't sure if Beth had been more disappointed over her break-up with Flint, or her refusal to join the CIA. After a couple of beers, Beth had stopped hounding her and they had had a really great night on the town. She definitely wasn't the bitter woman back then that she had turned into now. Was it her job that turned her that way?

She then began to feel guilty as she realized how little she had been involved in Beth's life. She could use the job excuses all she wanted, but the fact remained that if she had seen her more than once or twice a year, she might have had a better clue as to what was going on in her life.

She still couldn't get over the fact that Beth had stooped so low as to be digging up bodies in graveyards to stage flaming car wrecks. Was it the grave-digging, or the car wreck that disgusted Jaye more? She focused on the fact that right now her friends thought she was dead. Did they care? Did _he_ care? She imagined that Flint had to have been shaken up by the news, but by how much? Why was that important? If she found out that he had been in a deep state of mourning these last few days would that change things?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. "What the hell?" she asked the empty room. She walked to the door, and looked through the peephole. She muttered a string of obscenities, plastered a fake smile on her face and opened the door.

"Barbara, Judy, this is a surprise," Lady Jaye said to the two wives she had met the night before at the embassy function. She invited the women into the apartment.

"Oh, how quaint." Barbara replied after taking a brief look through the mostly sparse apartment.

Lady Jaye felt an irrational urge to defend her faux lifestyle. "I know it's not much, but with the number of hours Brant spends at the embassy, and since I only come every once in a while, we really didn't need anything extravagant."

"No need to explain, dear. It's really quite lovely." Judy replied while exchanging a look with her friend. "We really don't intend to stay long. We were on our way to lunch and a little shopping, and we thought you would like to come with us."

The last thing Lady Jaye wanted to do was spend any amount of time with the 'plastic wives' as Brant had dubbed them. However, she didn't have a plausible excuse to use. Plus, it was probably good for her to get out of the house and focus her anger on someone other than Beth. "That sounds like a fabulous idea. Just give me a few moments to change."

**Kiev, Ukraine**  
**12:30 hours, local time**

Gorman was on his way back to the embassy when his phone rang. He answered it and realized he was in trouble the moment he heard CIA Director Bellows' voice. "Albert, we have a situation."

He stopped in his tracks. "Sir?"

"We've got intel from the Brits that Cobra is going to pressure Yelchichev to declare martial law. No one has a good feeling about this so most of the embassies are being evacuated by their respective governments,  
including us."

"Isn't that a little premature? It's only martial law. I don't see them rolling tanks down the streets."

"Not yet. Our team is doing its job, Albert. I want to scale back our operations in Kiev, pull the main  
brunt back to Kirovohrad to monitor the situation.

Gorman tried to control his breathing. "Shouldn't we stay in the city?"

"Normally I'd agree, but in light of our recent failures I'm not sure it would be worth keeping things  
active with the current group. We'll pool our information with what MI-6 is giving us. Right now  
we're going to focus our efforts on further agitating Cobra. Shut down the house in Kiev along with our  
embassy operations."

"Yes, sir." Gorman knew he wasn't going to win this argument. "I'll report to you from the Kirovohrad  
house tonight." He quickly hung up before Bellows could say anything else. He dialed another number as  
he turned back towards the presidential palace. "There's a change in plans."

Bellows placed the phone back on the cradle in his office. He turned to see his assistant, Jeffries, staring at him. "Something on your mind, Grant?"

"Don't you think you tipped our hand to him? He's got to know you were lying about the source of  
information. You're putting a lot of lives in danger."

"It's a chance I have to take. Until I get concrete evidence in my hands I'm stuck. Hopefully this will  
put him on the defense and he'll make a mistake."

"And if he goes on the offensive?"

"Then we're going to lose some good people."

**Kiev, Ukraine  
****14:00 hours, local time**

Lady Jaye liked to think she tried, that she really tried. When she went into her bedroom to change after agreeing to this lunch date, she mentally prepared herself for this 'mission'. She was determined to have a good time. And she did, for the first half hour. Then she noticed that all of Judy and Barbara's topics of conversations had the same theme – snobbery. They talked about their husbands' co-workers with such an air of superiority that Lady Jaye spent the second half hour of the lunch restraining her urge to slap both of them. When they commented on how rough things were for them in this 'God forsaken country' she had to bite her tongue from pointing out the plight of the Ukrainian citizens. She then decided that it was best if she just tuned out their conversations all together. It wasn't the first time she had dealt with people like this - in fact from the moment she was born to the moment she left for college just about all of her social engagements (especially the ones her mother had a hand in arranging) had been like this. So she had learned the art of holding up her end of a conversation without actually hearing a word of it.

This luncheon also reminded her of life in Virginia, where she and Flint had moved so he could pursue his post-Joe military career. At first Lady Jaye had relished the idea of experiencing the Army from an outsider's point a view. She had become active in the family support center. She had hoped that she could give the spouses and families a perspective of what Army life was like. But no one had wanted to listen. Sure, some of them had thought her stories were exciting, but the majority opinion was one of non-interest. Most couldn't see past their own issues and problems. Plus, she and Flint hadn't even been engaged at that point. Most had considered her 'just' a girlfriend, and unable to understand the problems associated with a military marriage. Then there had been the issue of rank. The officer wives looked down at the enlisted wives, and the enlisted wives thought the officer wives were stuck-up snobs. With Flint a Warrant Officer, she had been liked by neither side. It was all very childish and immature and after a month of working with the center she had quit in frustration.

She once again smiled and nodded at what seemed to be the appropriate time. She then turned her attention back to her memories until a short time later when her cell phone rang. She excused herself and answered the phone.

"We've got a problem," Brant said simply.

"What happened?" she asked. She got an idea of the severity when first Judy's and then Barbara's phone rang.

"To be honest, I'm not one hundred percent on the details, but we were ordered to evacuate the embassy and the Ukraine as soon as humanly possible."

"Why? What is Cobra Commander up to?"

"I don't know. I've spent the last hour trying to get an answer to that question, but I've been getting the runaround."

"Wait! You've known about this for an hour, and I'm just finding out now?" Lady Jaye asked.

"I was asked to hold off notifying you. Most of the senior staff found out earlier on, but we were asked to wait on calling our families until more information was known. They didn't want to start a panic."

"Damn it, Brant." She turned away from the table and lowered her voice. "I'm not just an ordinary wife. I should have known earlier."

"I know that. But my hands were tied."

Lady Jaye knew arguing with Brant was only going to waste more time. "So what is the plan now?"

"I don't feel comfortable talking about it on the phone. I'm heading home right now, so meet me there."

Lady Jaye looked over at her lunch mates who were visibly agitated. "Sure thing, it just might take me a few minutes."

American Embassy Kiev, Ukraine 14:30 hours, local time Beth looked up from the file she was reading when Mary walked into Gorman's office. She put her hand up just as Mary was about to speak and slipped the file into the shredder. It had been a semi-constant noise the last ninety minutes, resulting in two bags of clippings lined up by the door. She waved at Mary to start when the shredder stopped. "Sorry. I hate trying to talk over a shredder." She reached for another file. 

"Gorman called me."

"Oh?" Beth put down the file she was reading.

"He wants Charlie and me to set up shop in the safehouse in the city." Mary's face was ashen in pallor. "He's setting us up, isn't he?"

Beth slowly nodded. "Yeah. Did he mention anything specific?"

"Not really. Just that we need to get over there as soon as possible. He said he'd meet us there this evening."

"Wow. He is so setting you two up to be screwed. I think it's safe to say he knows that we know enough to evacuate the embassy." Beth drummed her fingers on the desk as Mary looked at her expectantly. "I'm assuming that if you have a car he knows what it looks like."

"I do and he does."

Beth stood up. "Take me to it."

**Safe House  
Kirovorhad, Ukraine  
15:00 hours, local time**

"So work is going okay?" Dial-Tone asked his wife. It was a lame question but he had learned over the last few days that small talk was extremely hard to accomplish over a phone connection thousands of miles long.

"No complaints. There is nothing pressing at the moment" Linda replied, but her words trailed off at the end.

"Hon, are you okay?" Dial-Tone asked.

"I should be asking you that question. There's breaking news on CNN. Something about potential trouble in the Ukraine. They're talking about…martial law?"

Dial-Tone quickly rose to his feet. "Linda, I'll call you right back. Don't worry about me, I'm safe." _For the moment_,he added silently. He hung up the phone and shouted, "Flint! I think we have a situation!"

**American Embassy  
Kiev, Ukraine  
15:15 hours, local time**

Standing by Mary's car, Beth handed her a slip of paper. "When you and Charlie are ready to leave call this number. Ask for a car and you'll get it."

Not for the first time in the last few hours Mary found herself wanting to ask Beth who she was. She knew, though, that any answer would be a lie, and then only if Beth bothered to answer the question in the first place. The sight of a wallet flying at her broke Mary's thoughts. She barely caught it before it hit her in the face. Mary was staring at the wallet and then at Beth who was grinning at her.

"If you get surprised by that then you probably need some refresher courses at The Farm."

"Should I be on the lookout for any other flying objects?"

"Nope. Didn't bring the gun."

Mary held up the wallet. "If you're going to do what I think you're going to do won't you need this? And a gun?"

Beth didn't answer. She just turned and started to walk towards the driver's side. Mary turned back towards the embassy when she heard Beth call her name. Turning back around, Mary looked at Beth and thought she saw a look of doubt on her face. "When you guys get into safe territory and contact Bellows someone is probably going to come speak to you in person. Tell them…"

Mary waited for Beth to finish the sentence. Beth began to pace and mumble to herself. Mary watched in fascination as the cocky façade fell. The grumbling and pacing continued to build until it culminated in a barely audible "fuck" and Beth slamming her hand on the car roof. She lowered her head trying to collect herself. Shortly afterwards she mumbled something else and Mary took the opportunity to speak. "I didn't catch that."

Beth looked back up with a sad smile. "No regrets."

"I don't understand."

"You're not supposed to."

Mary wasn't sure how to take that. "Did you want me to get a message out for you?'

Beth shook her head slowly, smiling the same sad smile. "No." Before Mary could say anything else Beth got into the car. A minute later she started it up and drove off.

**Brant's Apartment  
****Kiev, Ukraine  
****15:00 hours, local time**

Lady Jaye fumbled with the lock to the apartment. She was annoyed with having lost so much time the last hour. Judy and Barbara's reaction to the news had not been what Lady Jaye expected. Instead of being frightened by the news, they were actually excited by it. As Lady Jaye did her best to hammer home how serious the situation had become, they had become more animated, and had started talking about witnessing another Tiananmen Square. She had put up with their bullshit for a few minutes before deciding that they were their husbands' problem. It had taken her another five minutes to convince them to leave. She had been at the mercy of Judy, who had been the one that provided the transportation for their luncheon. On the drive back to her apartment, Lady Jaye had tried unsuccessfully to get a hold of Beth, which only added to her concern.

When they had finally reached her apartment, Lady Jaye had tried one last time to explain to the women the seriousness of the situation and told them to go right home. She had then raced into her building and to the door of Brant's apartment where she was now faced with a stubborn lock.

She wiggled the key again, cursed loudly in Gaelic, and magically the door opened.

"Why hello, dear. Nice of you to come right home. Did you decide to pick up some last minute souvenirs?" Brant asked with a smirk.

Lady Jaye cursed in Gaelic once again. "If you must know, I was stuck with two of the most…nevermind. Tell me what the hell is going on."

"I really don't know much more than what I told you on the phone. A little bit before one O'clock we got the message to evacuate the embassy. At first we thought it was a temporary situation, but once the order came down to take our families and leave Ukraine I knew it was more serious."

"Did you contact Beth?" Lady Jaye asked.

"I tried to with no luck. I called her again a few minutes ago…" Brant's explanation was cut short by the phone ringing. He picked the phone up and Lady Jaye waited for some acknowledgment of who was on the other end. A moment later he said, "I missed that, Beth. You sound like you're talking with your mouth full."

Lady Jaye ran into the bedroom to pick up the other line. She caught the tail end of Beth's reply, "…bless capitalism. It's comforting to know the fall of communism allows me to buy a double cheeseburger and a large fry anywhere in the world. I swear they lace these fries with crack."

"Cobra may be finally showing their hand and you're waxing poetic about McDonald's," Lady Jaye said.

"I'm having what may be my last real meal for awhile and I'm having this conversation on what most assuredly is an unsecure pay phone in the McDonald's. I was explaining to your husband that if the opportunity presents itself to leave, take it."

"We're supposed to start in thirty minutes," Brant said.

"Wonderful. Make sure your wife gets on one of the first transports."

"I'm still on the phone," Lady Jaye said tersely. "What do you plan on doing?"

Beth took a sip of something before answering. "I'm gonna make sure the company store is secured. The managing director isn't following orders. I've sent the others home."

"You're not doing that alone."

"Yes, I am. You've no idea what's going on."

"Whatever. We're meeting you there." Lady Jaye hung up before she could listen to Beth protest further. She went into the living room where Brant was still on the phone. He nodded as he agreed with whatever Beth told him and then hung up. Before Lady Jaye could say anything Brant spoke, "Are you trying to help tip Cobra off?"

"Excuse me?"

"She tells you she's calling from a pay phone and yet you still prattle on like she's on a secure line. Did you pad your resume?"

"I know what I'm doing."

"You could've fooled me. She's right. You have no idea how ugly this is getting . What she was trying to communicate without tipping anyone who might be listening is that she's shutting down the CIA's safe house in the city. Gorman's involved somehow."

"That's all the more reason for us to support her."

"No, it means we need to get inside the British embassy where we'll be safe. I am expected to help in the evacuation and you're expected to be on a helicopter with the other embassy family members. There's no acceptable reason for us not to be there. And if you're a quarter of the professional your file says you are then you know I'm right."

Lady Jaye was silent for a moment. "Yeah, I know. Doesn't mean I like it."

"You don't have to like it. You just have to do it." Brant grabbed his jacket. "Let's go."

**The Crimea  
****16:00 hours, local Time**

Anatoly banged loudly on the door. Still no answer. He swore loudly. As he rummaged for his keys he made a mental list of all the bars Shipwreck could be at. He unlocked the door and entered. He couldn't believe the condition of his place. The man had only been staying with him a few days, but he had really made a mess of things. Anatoly heard a loud snore and saw that the man he was looking for was currently heavily asleep on his couch.

He walked over to the sleeping man and shook him roughly, "Get up you lazy American!"

It took Shipwreck a few moments to return to consciousness. He looked out through bloodshot eyes and asked "What time is it?"

"Almost four in the afternoon. You have slept all day!" Anatoly replied. He then shook his head. "It does not matter. We must be going now."

"Yeah, yeah. Just give me a few minutes to wake up. Do you have any…?"

"We no have time for chatting chit! We must be going now. Cobra will be declaring martial law. We must be going to safer house!"

Shipwreck looked utterly confused. He rubbed his hands across his forehead and moaned. "Cobra's doing what?"

"Look, I explain in the car. We must go now." He went to help Shipwreck up and then stopped. "Whoa. Maybe we have time for you to take quick shower first."

**British Embassy  
****Kiev, Ukraine  
****17:30 hours, local time**

The embassy was a scene of organized chaos. Outside, helicopters were loading up embassy staff and their families. Inside, more staff and family members milled about. Some were grouped together waiting for the next available copter, while others rushed up and down the hallway. Everyone seemed to have an air of nervous energy.

Lady Jaye leaned against the wall and watched the scene with a growing frustration. For the fifth time in as many minutes, she looked at her watch. Her foot tapped impatiently against the floor. Lady Jaye felt Brant's hand squeeze her shoulder and she had an almost uncontrollable urge to break it. She still couldn't believe that his main concern was keeping up appearances. She began to protest the situation again, but was interrupted by Brant's cell phone. He answered it, listened for a moment and said. "Yes, I'm all set. I have the files with me. As soon as I get my wife loaded on one of the helicopters, I'll head upstairs."

Lady Jaye started to seethe. She glared at Brant until he hung up the phone. "Do I have to remind you that I am not getting on any helos?"

Brant nervously smiled at a co-worker that passed by. He glanced up and down the hall before leaning in close to her. "My apologies, honey. I'll call the ambassador right back and tell him all about our little plan and your real identity."

Lady Jaye ignored his sarcastic reply. "We're wasting time. I've been standing here for the last thirty minutes twiddling my thumbs when I could be doing something a lot more useful. Look, I've maintained my cover. No one is going to notice now if I get on the transport or not."

As if on cue, a voice called down the hallway "Samantha!" Lady Jaye's face winced, and she slowly turned around. Judy ran up to her. "I am so glad to see you. Barbara just left on the last helicopter, so I thought I was going to be all alone on the exodus. Are you waiting for one of the helicopters?"

"Yes, she is," Brant replied. "And it's a load off of my mind to see that she will have a friend along."

Lady Jaye whipped around to stare at Brant. She began to wonder if he had truly lost his mind. But then she realized she could use Judy to her advantage. "Brant, dear, since Judy is here now, why don't you go back to your office? I know you have quite a bit of work left to do."

"I couldn't possibly concentrate on my work, until I knew you were safely on your way. My work can wait for…" the ringing of his cell phone again interrupted Brant. He answered it and walked a few feet away, out of Lady Jaye's hearing.

Lady Jaye half-listened to Judy prattling on, as she watched Brant to get an indication of his phone call. She prayed that it was Beth calling. Brant hung up the phone and walked back to the two women. She stared at him and he shook his head.

"I'm afraid I will have to leave you two ladies," Brant said as he grabbed Lady Jaye's arm. "Judy, do you mind if I have a few minutes alone with my wife?" Judy nodded and Brant pulled Lady Jaye down the hall.

He pulled her close and into a hug, to give the impression of a man having an intimate farewell moment with his wife.

"Just get on the transport and go to London," Brant whispered into her ear. He pulled away, reached into his briefcase and scribbled on a scrap piece of paper. "Go to MI6 headquarters and ask to speak to this man. Tell him everything you know and he'll get the information to the Americans."

Lady Jaye was going to argue, but she kept quiet. She knew she could make her getaway as soon as he left for his office. She grabbed the paper from his hand and nodded.

He smiled. "Good girl. It's really for the best. We can regroup and figure out a new plan once we're safely out of the city."

She nodded again; they gave each other one more hug for the audience and then parted ways. She crumpled the piece of paper, stuck it in her pocket and walked back to Judy.

"He seems like such a sweet man," Judy remarked. "I wish my William was half as affectionate."

"Yeah, he's a real sweetheart," Lady Jaye mumbled. She looked down the hall and saw that Brant had gone upstairs. "I need to use the restroom. I'll be right back."

"You have to use the loo too? I get such a nervous stomach when I travel, and I think one final trip to the loo would be the best idea for me."

Lady Jaye rolled her eyes, but knew she could easily ditch Judy in the bathroom. The two walked down the hall and into the ladies room. Once again Judy talked non-stop. Lady Jaye waited until Judy entered the stall and locked the door. She then silently sneaked out of the bathroom.

Once out in the hall, she hurried for the entrance. The activity level had increased, so Lady Jaye was able to leave without much notice. She quickly headed for the street. She wanted to put as much distance between her and the embassy as possible. As she continued her walk down the street she realized she had no idea what she was going to do next. She knew Beth was at the safehouse, but she had no idea where that was. She pulled out her cell phone, but stared at it blankly. Brant had chastised her earlier for her behavior on an unsecured phone. Was she going to break protocol again and just call Beth and ask her for directions?

She could call the Joes. Flint would probably know where the safehouse was. However, assuming she would even be able to track them down, she still had the problem that they all thought she was dead. She stopped walking and uttered a string of Gaelic curses. She stopped as soon as she sensed a presence behind her. She became aware of her lack of weapons of any kind as she slowly turned around.

She let out a deep breath. Standing behind her was Sergei, the Russian driver working for both Flint and Beth. "Come," he ordered. "We go to safer house and Beth."

Lady Jaye just nodded, grateful for her luck. She knew she could ask any questions later. The two hurried to his car, where Lady Jaye saw that Sergei had already picked up a passenger. She raced to the car, thinking it was Beth, but when she opened the car door she instead saw a disgruntled Brant sitting in the front seat.

"Looks like you got your wish," Brant said.

"How?" she asked as she climbed into the back seat.

"Apparently, Sergei was the emergency I needed to tend to immediately. When I went upstairs to my office, he was waiting for me. Apparently Beth had a feeling you'd try something and wanted him to help make sure you got out of here. Imagine my surprise when I found out that you had suddenly disappeared out of the bathroom. Especially after I had told Sergei how I got you to agree to go to London."

"Well, here I am. I'll be fine with Sergei if you want to get back to the embassy," Lady Jaye offered.

"No, I'm here now. Let's go be idiotic."

**Outside CIA Safehouse  
****Kiev, Ukraine  
****18:45 hours, local time**

"This is ridiculous. She's trying to shut a house down by herself. We should be in there helping her," Lady Jaye said. She, Brant and Sergei were around the corner a block away watching the CIA safehouse. Sergei had confirmed that Beth was still inside when he spotted Mary's car.

"We should be on a transport out of here," grumbled Brant.

Lady Jaye turned towards him, and Sergei worried that he would have to restrain her. "I didn't ask you to be here. Nothing's keeping you from leaving."

"Because it would be completely acceptable to leave without my wife? One of us has to be concerned about maintaining your cover. At this point we're the only part of this entire operation Gorman doesn't know about. We should be using that to our advantage, get out of this god forsaken place unmolested, and blow the whistle on his plan."

"I'm not leaving her behind."

Before Brant could respond Sergei starting waving at them. Brant looked up to see HISS tanks roll down the streets. Sergei started towards the car. "We leave now." Brant began to turn until he saw Lady Jaye bolt for the safehouse. He was a half step quicker and grabbed her around the waist just as she was exiting onto the street. He pulled her back around the corner.

"Let me go!" Lady Jaye thrashed about in Brant's arms. He barely avoided a shot to his groin before slamming her against the wall.

"Are you trying to get us killed? The crackdown is beginning. If we leave now we may still have a chance." He turned around so both of them faced the street again. As they did so two transport vehicles pulled up. They watched as Xamot, Tomax, and a handful of Crimson Guardsmen set up in front of the storefront. The Twins stepped back as the Guardsmen began to break the door down.

**Inside CIA Safehouse  
****Kiev, Ukraine  
****18:50 hours, local time**

Beth heard the sound of the battering ram faintly from the basement. She had spent the last few hours shredding documents and installing various viruses that would cripple the two computers. Turning towards a monitor she saw the front door violently swing open from the ram and Crimson Guardsmen stream in. Knowing they would make a beeline for the basement she pulled a cigarette lighter from her pocket. Grabbing a file she lit the edge and dropped it in a pile of shredded paper. She threw some more files on the growing fire as she could hear the small barricade she set up leading towards the interior door being cleared.

Praying that the viruses she'd loaded had destroyed enough of the system, Beth stepped back to survey the damage as the door leading to the room was forced open. She reached for her cigarettes as she watched a Guardsmen go to the computer while three others tried to put out the fire. The Twins walked towards her just as she finished lighting a cigarette.

"What exactly…," Tomax said.

"…do we have here," finished Xamot.

Beth blew smoke in their direction. "I would be wrong, but it looks like a fire." She grinned at them while putting the cigarette back in her mouth.

The Twins motioned towards three other guards. "Arrest her," they said in unison.

One guard took the lead and smacked Beth across the face, sending the cigarette flying. Beth didn't put up much of a struggle as the other two guards pushed her against the wall and cuffed her hands behind her back.

As they turned back around the lead Guardsmen removed his helmet. Beth kept her face blank as Gorman revealed himself. "Who are you?"

Not able to stop herself Beth mouthed off. "The woman whose cigarette you sent flying."

Gorman grabbed her and slammed his knee up into her midsection. He let her go and she dropped to her knees, the wind having been knocked out of her. He followed that up with a kick to her gut. Leaning down he said, "Let's see how smart that mouth is in a few hours." Gorman hauled her back up and threw her towards the other two guards. "Get her out of here."

"I take it she's not one of your people, " said Tomax.

"No, but I'm confident she works for my now former employers. We just need to get the specifics from her."

"Speaking of them," said Xamot, "I think we can agree that they know about you."

Gorman began to remove his uniform top revealing a regular work shirt. "Possibly. I think it's time we threw some doubt in their minds." All three smiled as Xamot opened his cell phone.

Brant kept his hand around Lady Jaye's arm as they waited for the guards to reappear. "Do you think there's any place she could hide in there?" Lady Jaye asked.

Brant shook his head. " Not if Gorman is the mole."

They watched with anticipation when a Guardsman ran out of the building. He headed for a transport, signaling the driver to start the vehicle. A minute later he was followed by the two guards bringing Beth out of the building.

Lady Jaye gasped and renewed her struggle to get out of Brant's grasp. He cursed as he grabbed her other arm and forced her against the wall. "What are you doing? We can take them."

"No, we can't. There are more guards inside, we don't have any weapons, and odds are good more troops are coming. Our window of opportunity to get out of here is closing quickly. We need to leave now."

"We can't leave her!"

"She knew what she was doing when she came here. We can't do her any good right now and we're not going to help her if we don't make it out of the city. We need to tell our superiors what's happening and I don't think we can trust any of the communication infrastructure to be secure." Brant sighed. "You hung up the phone before Beth could tell you to forget the promise. She said you would understand what she was talking about."

Lady Jaye stopped struggling. She gave one last look towards Beth before turning towards Sergei's car. Brant kept a hand on her, worried that she might try to lull him into a false sense of security.

**Kirovorhad Safe House  
****19:15 hours, local time**

"Dial-Tone, talk to me. What's going on?" Flint asked.

"I lost the signal, Flint. I'm trying to get it back," He replied desperately. They had been watching the events unfold on a local television station, but it had been quickly taken off the air. Dial-Tone had been able to pick up a short-wave radio signal that was keeping them informed, but he had lost it a short time ago.

Flint wasn't sure what to do. The situation was rapidly going to hell in a hand-basket, and he was sitting here looking at a quiet radio transmitter. The news had reported that Cobra had declared martial law earlier in the day. Flint wondered what had happened to push Cobra Commander into that decision. He had already lost one agent, and only God knew how many more were in danger. He didn't know whether to try and contact Mary, contact General Hawk, or to keep the line free for anyone else that might need to get a hold of him. He was about to scream at Dial-Tone when there was a knock on the door. Both men looked at each other and then headed towards the door as they reached for their weapons. The knocking began again in earnest and they heard Mary say, 'Dash, are you in there? Open up if you are."

Flint quickly opened the door and ushered Mary and Charlie in. "What's happened? The last piece of useful news we got was that the embassy was being evacuated. Gorman finally realize that something was going on?"

"Some woman named Beth Harkins showed up saying that we needed to clear out. Apparently she's someone important because one phone call later it was happening. If it weren't for her we never would've known about what Cobra was planning. She sent us to get you two and take you to a new house that hopefully Gorman doesn't know about. Apparently everything is compromised, including our mission."

Dial-Tone was already grabbing his tools as Flint said, "Gorman? Why… Wait a minute, what about Shipwreck? He's still in the Crimea."

"Beth said something about sending someone to get him. Brant will be meeting up with us as well and will be bringing some other people."

Before Flint could ask any other questions, his phone rang. "Dash, it's Brant. I don't want to say much, but as you can probably tell the shit hit the proverbial fan on our end. Are Mary and Charlie with you?" Brant asked.

"They just got here." Flint answered.

"Good, we'll meet you there. You'll probably get there first."

"Mary mentioned something about you bringing others. Who's with you?" Flint asked.

"I've got Alison and Sergei with me," Brant said.

Flint felt the blood rush to his head. His ears were roaring. He swallowed, trying to clear his head, and slowly asked, "Did you say Alison was with you?"

"Yes. We'll explain everything when we get there," Brant said before hanging up.

Flint brought the phone away from his ear and stared at it dumbly. _She's alive? Alison is still alive?_

The others had heard part of the conversation. "Lady Jaye's alive?" Dial-Tone asked.

"That's what Brant just told me.She's alive!" he exclaimed with a laugh. He clapped Dial-Tone on the back. "Come on. We need to get out of here."

With Mary and Charlie's help, they quickly packed up the essentials and left the house within a few minutes. The drive took less than an hour. Shipwreck had arrived at the house ahead of them and walked out the front door as soon as they pulled up front. "I'm glad you guys finally showed up. I was starting to worry that Anatoly had set me up. What the hell is going on? Anatoly said something about Cobra cracking down."

"Unfortunately, that's not a rumor. Cobra declared martial law a few hours ago. They just cut all the power to the embassies in the capital. We got enough advance warning to get the staff that hadn't been recalled when Cobra took over out of the country, but they've already entered the American embassy looking for information about us," Flint explained as he got out of the car.

Shipwreck stopped and looked at him. "For someone who gave some pretty horrible news, you seem awfully happy."

Flint looked at him and said simply, "Lady Jaye's alive." He continued into the house.

Shipwreck remained standing where he was. "Hey! When was she not? How come you guys never tell me anything?"

**Pentagon  
Washington, DC  
12:20 hours, local time**

Hawk furiously flipped between CNN, MSNBC, and FoxNews hoping to find a different image. Unfortunately all three were playing the same video of Crimson Guardsmen leading Albert Gorman out of what looked to be a tailor's shop in the middle of Kiev. Luckily for all involved the media hadn't identified him yet, so the title at the bottom of the screen just referred to him "unknown citizen". This scene was being played out all over the city as Ukranian officials claimed to be rounding up elements focused on destabilizing the government.

At least that was what President Yelchichev was saying over images of tanks rolling down the streets of Kiev and the other major Ukranian cities when the crackdown began nearly an hour earlier. The United States and England knew that the "crackdown" was just Cobra's way to go after the team. Outside of the footage with Gorman Hawk hadn't seen any footage of any of his other team members being captured. All conventional means of communication had been blocked and Hawk wouldn't let Mainframe attempt to contact Flint's team out of fear of alerting Cobra to their location. He could only sit, watch television and hope they found their way out of the country.

He looked at the phone, trying to figure the intercom out. He had asked Mainframe to place a call in to Langley when the footage of Gorman first hit the airwaves. That had been five minutes ago and Mainframe hadn't come back yet. After pushing various buttons with no results Hawk decided to use a tried and true method of reaching him. "Mainframe! Why the hell haven't you gotten Langley on the phone yet?"

Hawk could hear Mainframe grumble and push his chair away from his desk. A second later Mainframe popped his head inside the door. "Couldn't remember how to use the intercom, could you, Sir?"

"Just answer my question."

"You're in the queue, Sir. According to Director Bellows' secretary you're fifth in line. He's currently talking to the President and then there's a couple of cabinet secretaries, the head of the congressional committee on intelligence, and the head of MI6. From the way it sounded we're going to be on hold for awhile."

"You tell her to get me in after the President. I've got people over there and unfortunately I'm currently in the position of needing him to tell me if they're alive or not. "

**Safe House  
Classified location  
****21:30 hours, local time **

Flint had been keeping watch out the window. He had not been able to sit down since they entered the house. After what seemed like an eternity, he saw a pair of headlights pull into the driveway. He watched as three figures got out of the car, and he ran out of the house. Mary and Charlie were right on his heels out the door.

"Lady Jaye! Thank God! I …" He stopped in mid-sentence when he saw the look on her face. "What happened?"

Lady Jaye couldn't answer him, so Brant did. "We had to leave Beth behind."

"Beth? Who's Beth?" Flint asked as Dial-Tone and Shipwreck joined them outside.

"She's my sister." Lady Jaye replied in a voice just slightly above a whisper.

The group went silent as everyone stared at Jaye. Flint was the first to speak. "Your sister? But I thought…"

"Yes, my sister. Beth's real name is Katherine Hart-Burnett and I'm not leaving this country without her." Before anyone could say anything else on the matter Jaye walked into the house and went upstairs.


End file.
